Common Ground
by NeekerBreeker
Summary: Following the epilogue, JJ x Drake. A series of seemingly gangrelated murders puzzle Drake and JJ... as if they didn't have enough trouble with their personal lives. FINISHED!
1. Default Chapter

COMMON GROUND  
  
A FAKE fanfic by NeekerBreeker(@facehugger.com)  
  
Pairing: Drake x JJ  
  
Timeline: After the Epilogue. Contains massive spoilers for the whole series.  
  
Keywords: Romance, Drama, Action, some Angst.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not Matou Sanami, JJ's not an idiot and Drake exists, dammit.   
  
Author's Notes after the story.  
  
*  
  
I don't know what it is that makes me feel alive  
  
I don't know how to wake the things that sleep inside  
  
I only wanna see the light that shines behind your eyes  
  
I hope that I can say the things I wish I'd said  
  
To sing my soul to sleep and take me back to bed  
  
You want to be alone when we could be alive instead  
  
- "Acquiesce" / Oasis  
  
*  
  
Chapter One  
  
Drake kicked the door open to the dark office, balancing a plastic coffee cup, his jacket and an overflowing file in his hands. He dropped the file on the desk and reached to switch on the light. He muttered a weak curse as nothing happened and the room remained dark.  
  
*Great. I love to start the week by fighting over a new light bulb with that cheap-ass provisions manager.*  
  
Drake took his coffee cup and opened the window blinds. He was immediately reminded of why no-one usually opened them - a lovely view of a brick wall greeted him. The light from outside painted the small, messy room in shades of dirty yellow and grey. Drake sighed through his nose and took a sip of coffee. It left a weak taste of cream powder in his mouth that he rather liked.  
  
*Whatever. I'll just wait until JJ shows up and have him get the damn bulb or something. Nothing urgent this morning, anyway.*  
  
He walked over to his desk, sat down and moved the few files and papers on it into the drawer. He leaned back, threw his feet on the desk and concentrated on doing nothing at all.  
  
It was not long before Ted burst into the room.  
  
"Whoa! I thought there was no-one here," he said by way of greeting.  
  
"The damn bulb's busted," Drake murmured, sloshing the remains of the coffee in the cup. He preferred the cream powder's artificial sweetness to the coffee itself. "Why did you come in if you thought the room was empty?"  
  
Ted leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms on his chest. "Got up on the wrong side of the bed, Mr. Parker?"  
  
Drake threw the empty cup into the wastebasket on the other side of the room. He had mastered the move ages ago and didn't miss this time, either. It still gave him certain satisfaction. "Well, I don't know about planet Ted, but it's Monday morning over here."  
  
Ted grinned widely. "It helps to start the week when you're brought breakfast to bed."  
  
"Gina?"  
  
"Who else? She's so fussy and domestic, it's cute. She even baked muffins. I'll give you a couple in the meeting room. Oh, which reminds me of why I came here in the first place --"  
  
Drake groaned. "No! A meeting first thing in the morning?"  
  
Ted straightened up to leave. "Sorry, pal, that's the way it goes. I'm gonna go get Marty, so you tell Dee and Ryou, okay? And be there by nine fifteen with JJ or Chief's gonna chew us all out. He's in one of those moods again."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, we'll be there," Drake muttered and annoyedly dropped his feet back to the floor.  
  
Ted hesitated and frowned. "Where is the kid, anyway? I haven't seen him this morning."  
  
Drake shrugged. "Dunno. Not in yet."  
  
Come to think of it, Drake thought it peculiar that JJ hadn't shown up. He was usually already at work when Drake walked into their office.  
  
*Wonder if he's sick,* Drake thought. *If it was anyone else - okay, almost anyone else; I can't really imagine Ryou sleeping in either - I wouldn't worry on a Monday morning. But JJ's one of those people who are only late because of an alien invasion, and he probably really HAD his homework eaten by a dog as a kid.*  
  
Ted threw the door open all the way. "Well, tell 'im when he shows up," he said and left.  
  
Drake threw a few papers into a file to take with him and got out of the office. He knocked on the next door along the hallway which said "McLane and Latener" and pushed it open.  
  
"Hey, Dee, Ryou! Meeting at nine fifteen!" he announced.  
  
Ryou looked up from the file he had open on his impossibly neat desk. Drake could smell the cigarette smoke in the room, but Dee was nowhere in sight. Compared to Drake's and JJ's office, the room seemed unbelievably cozy. Drake couldn't quite put his finger on why.  
  
Ryou took off his glasses and smiled. "Oh, Drake! Morning."  
  
Drake put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah, hi. Where's Dee? Sleeping in?"  
  
"Not this time. He's at the vending machine." Ryou leaned his hand on his jaw. "What's this about a meeting? The chief didn't mention anything when I went to get the car papers from him this morning."  
  
Drake glanced at the clock on the wall; they still had about ten minutes. He half-sat on the corner of Dee's desk. "Last minute call? Your guess is as good as mine. I for one thought we were on a paperwork leave after the forgery case."  
  
Which hadn't been a case, Drake added in his mind, but a nightmare. He had spent nearly 30 hours in a patrol car parked next to a dubious jewellery store. Everybody had worked day and night, investigating the few clues they had, most of them leading nowhere. A forged jewellery cargo was about to be shipped to Detroit, so they had to get on the trail of the forgers before the jewellery were sold to a hundred small-time crooks who'd sell them forward. It had been slave work, mind-numbing and unrewarding. In the end, the 25th precinct got the criminals first and all the thanks with them.  
  
And then Jill had started with "we need to talk", which hadn't really made things any easier...  
  
Nope, Drake could do fine letting the whole case pass into oblivion. The last thing he needed now was some kind of extra meeting to go everything through again. He had even started to hate his patrol car, which he generally had liked before having to practically move into it.  
  
Fortunately the thought of the patrol car reminded him of something else and he distracted himself by asking Ryou about the new car he and Dee had just been admitted.  
  
"Well, I just got the papers," Ryou said, shrugging. "My guess is it's just a normal patrol car. Unless, of course, Ted's plan to get us all to drive BMWs worked."  
  
"But it's new, isn't it? Didn't you ask Chief whether it's the old build or not? Mine and JJ's drinks oil like a friggin' sponge."  
  
Ryou shook his head. "I don't know. But you can come and check for yourself later. I really can't tell when it comes to cars, I've never owned one."  
  
"Hell, neither have I," Drake admitted, scratching his hair. "A garage would cost more than my apartment. And in my neighborhood you can't leave your car on the street for ten minutes before it's already been taken apart and sold."  
  
Ryou made a strange face; something between worry and appreciation. "I thought you were going to move out."  
  
"I thought so, too," Drake said, a little uneasily. "Turns out I won't for some time, until I get another raise, at least." He attempted a grin. "Two more years to go."  
  
Ryou looked like he was going to ask something, then decided against it. "We would've deserved the jewellery from the last case to ourselves, after all those round-the-clock watches we kept."  
  
Drake sighed. "Tell me about it. I had to observe the storing. I really had to kick myself not to slip a few jewels in my own pocket. Now the damn jewellery's locked downstairs, gathering dust, and I'm still living in a rat hole. What a world."  
  
The door opened and Dee walked in, holding two steaming plastic cups. "Who ordered artificial coffee-substitute in fuckin' flimsy cups?"  
  
"You took your time," Ryou said.  
  
"I know! C'mon, take them; my fingers are in blisters!" Dee gave the cups to Ryou and shook his freed hands vigorously. "Fucking cheap plastic." He nodded to Drake when he noticed he was in the room.  
  
"You tested the new vending machine upstairs?" Drake asked and got up from Dee's desk.  
  
Dee humphed. "I and the rest of the station. And why? I mean, the coffee isn't likely to be any better, and the cups are the cheapest I've ever seen."  
  
"At least we won't have to go all the way to the first floor for coffee anymore," Ryou reminded him.  
  
"Let's see, then." Drake snatched one of the cups from an unexpecting Ryou and took a sip.  
  
"Hey! Go stand in the line and buy your own, freeloader!" Dee grabbed the mug from Drake.  
  
"It's not bad, actually," Drake commented.   
  
Dee sipped the coffee. "No, it isn't. Well, I'll be damned. But they really should do something about these cups." He threw himself on his chair and picked up a pen to twirl it in his hand. "Did you have some news, Drake, or are you just socializing?"  
  
Drake quickly glanced at the clock again. "Oh, hell. We're four minutes late."  
  
"Damn!" Ryou shot up from his chair. "Dee, we've got to go to the meeting room, now!"  
  
"I hear you, I hear you," Dee said nonchalantly and took another sip of coffee. "If we're already late, what's the use of running?"  
  
"Yeah, Ryou, cool it," Drake said, stretching his arms. "If Chief calls a meeting this early on a Monday morning, he should know what he's asking for."  
  
Ryou picked up a neat file and put a pen in the breast pocket of his dress shirt. "I can't believe the two of you!" He turned to look at Dee sharply.  
  
Dee lazily gathered a few papers from his desk and got up, finished his coffee and threw the empty cup away. "Okay, okay. But you go first." He opened the door and held it open.  
  
Ryou quirked his eyebrow suspiciously. "Why?"  
  
"Because that tanuki likes you."  
  
"Look, that's --" Ryou started, exasperated, but Dee cut him off.  
  
"Are you going to leave this room, or do I have to carry you over the threshold?" He grinned, and moved so close to Ryou that their noses almost touched.   
  
Drake backed away instinctively and tried to look at the walls. You started to develop a certain sixth sense for upcoming office makeout attempts after hanging out in Dee and Ryou's room for long enough. Usually, at this point, he had already made some excuse and left, but Dee and Ryou were blocking the door.  
  
"Dee, work," Ryou reminded him, but his voice lacked authority.  
  
Dee's grin grew wider, and then he glanced at Drake and backed away, letting Ryou leave the room. "Right. I'll put *that* off 'til next week."  
  
To Drake's amazement, Ryou turned to smile at Dee warmly and knowingly, as if he had just told an inside joke. And a pretty intimate one, at that.  
  
*The hell?* Drake thought. *JJ seems to have been right. And I haven't noticed a thing.*  
  
He stuffed his hands in his pockets again and sauntered after the two.   
  
*Hell, I can't be that blind... can I?*  
  
But something at the back of his mind kept telling him yes. Oh yes, he was. It was a voice he had heard ever since last Friday.  
  
***  
  
Dee knocked on the door of the meeting room and stepped in.  
  
"Morning, ev --"  
  
That was as far as he got before he practically flew out of the room by the force of a booming voice.  
  
"You're LATE!"   
  
The chief's furious face appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Sorry about that, sir," Ryou began, "you see, we were checking the d --"  
  
"And I don't need any explanations from you, Randy!" Chief interrupted, turning his back on Ryou and returning back inside. "Just get in already, I have new orders for you!"  
  
Ryou fought to keep the smile on his face. "Uh, yes sir."  
  
"Tanuki is biting today," Dee grumbled as he walked in after Ryou.  
  
"WHAT?!" the chief bellowed, smacking Dee upside the head. "You'll call me 'Chief', is that too much for your feeble brain to comprehend?"  
  
Drake saw his opportunity as Chief and Dee continued to fight, and he slipped into the room, silently drew the door closed behind him, and started to sneak to his chair. He saw JJ, Ted and Ted's partner Marty already seated around the table. Marty appeared to be asleep and Ted was busy making installation art out of his plastic coffee cup, but JJ noticed him. Drake raised a finger to his lips, but right then Chief's voice stopped him on his tracks.  
  
"DRAKE! And where do you think YOU'RE going?"  
  
*Damn!* Drake thought. There was no escape now.  
  
"Oh, chief!" He laughed nervously. "I was just taking my se -- OUCH!"  
  
"Idiot! I have eyes in the back of my neck," the chief said, cracking his knuckles. "Now sit down, I don't have the whole day."  
  
"Yes sir," Drake muttered, holding his smarting head.  
  
He pulled out a chair next to his partner. Ryou and Dee sat down on the other side of the table. Ted was rolling his piece of art along the table. It hit Marty and he made a face, yawned and went back to snoozing.  
  
*Definitely Monday,* Drake thought as he noticed even JJ was scribbling on the table.  
  
He peeked over to see what JJ was drawing. I turned out to be some random lines and stars.  
  
*I'm surprised it's not cute little animals.* Drake grinned at the thought.  
  
JJ caught him looking and covered his stars with his arms. "You really should know better than to upset chief on Monday morning, senpai."  
  
"Oh, don't you start. Did you come straight here this morning?"  
  
JJ nodded. "Didn't I tell you, senpai?" His eyes were big and alert.  
  
Drake raked his hair off his face. "You might've. I don't remember. Most of last Friday is lost time."  
  
"Senpai, did y--" JJ began.  
  
"I think we should listen to Chief, eh, partner?" Drake said quietly. He picked up a pen and started twirling it nervously in his fingers. He hadn't meant to make a reference to Friday. Not before he had gotten another cup of coffee and the chief out of his sight, anyway.  
  
The chief's voice drifted into his ears.  
  
"...like a specialist's work, or then possibly a gang with some kind of strange code. Now, Ted, you wrote in your report about the hate crimes in the area..."  
  
"I missed the introduction," Drake said to JJ.  
  
"He's talking about a series of murders in Bronx and Brooklyn. It's Ted and Marty's case," JJ answered in a low voice, keeping his eyes fixed on the chief.  
  
"Then what are WE doing here?"  
  
"Hush, senpai, I think he's about to come to that."  
  
The chief paused for a moment, then said, "Well, I think you can all see why I thought I'd take you out of this case. Marty, Ted, you've done good job so far. But I'm not going to endanger you for no reason." He glanced around the room. "Randy and Dee, you take the case from here."  
  
Drake snatched JJ's notes and took a quick look. He flicked over the information of the victims to find some reason to the chief's remark. Then he noted JJ's scrawl: "No othr cnnction but skn color." It was true, all victims were of ethnic minorities, mostly African-Americans.  
  
"A racist gang?" he ventured aloud.  
  
JJ glanced at him and nodded. "Something like it. That's why Chief's taking Marty off the case."   
  
"But what about Ryou? You can tell he's got Asian blood. After England, I'd take care."  
  
"That's true, senpai! Chief!" JJ stood up.  
  
"What is it?" The chief looked at him. "Your orders won't change, JJ."  
  
"The third murder victim was a Korean restaurant owner, sir. Wouldn't you say this killer - or possibly a gang - targets also Asian-Americans? Swapping Officer Sherdon for Officer McLane won't change anything."   
  
The chief cleared his throat and thought for a while. "That's a point, JJ, although not a big one. Most of the victims were, after all, black. But I don't like taking chances, so Randy, you're off the case."  
  
"Sir, if I may say something --" Ryou started, but the chief held out his hand.  
  
"All right, all right, Randy. I understand what this must look like, but it's because of your own safety." The chief put his hands on his hips and bellowed, "If someone wants to put in complaints for racist delegation of work in this station, feel free! But this is how detectives get killed. It was a close call last time, and I won't see it happen again."  
  
"No complaints here, sir," Marty said and yawned.  
  
"Well, it looks like the case is yours, JJ, Drake," Chief announced. "Note that I won't even request a search on your family trees to ensure you're both of pure Aryan blood."  
  
"Ha, ha," Drake murmured and held his head. "Nice going, JJ."  
  
JJ slumped down. "Well, I didn't *mean* to get the case to us, senpai. Sorry."  
  
The chief closed the slide projector and motioned Marty to put on the lights. "That about wraps it up for this morning. Randy and Dee, you take over the filing while JJ and Drake move on to the case. Marty, Ted, you're doing the paperwork as long as the Olsen case doesn't need more backup. Ask Linda about the details."  
  
As slowly as they had made their way in, the people in the meeting room packed up their things and started to migrate towards their offices.  
  
"Have fun with the filing," Drake said to Ted when he passed by.  
  
Ted stopped to pat him on the shoulder. "I'd rather be sitting in an office than go racist busting. Stop by our office and I'll fill ya in." He yawned and left.  
  
Dee gave Drake a sympathetic grin when he and Ryou came to the other side of the table. Drake noticed Ryou's annoyed look and shook his head slowly.  
  
*The one person in the station who actually likes to work,* he thought, *and they won't let him.*  
  
"My condolences," Dee said. "See you at lunch, then." He began directing the gloomy Ryou out of the room.  
  
JJ looked at Drake. "I have shooting practice, so would you mind if we talked to Ted-senpai on the lunch break?"  
  
Drake shrugged. "Yeah, okay. I'll come with you; I have to go to the provisions."  
  
They were the last to leave the room and Drake drew the door shut behind them.  
  
JJ was clutching his notes to his chest in an amusingly schoolboyish way. "The provisions? You really think you can squeeze something out of the manager?"  
  
Drake laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "I guess I'd better pack tongs. But we need a new light bulb in the office."  
  
"Oh. Well, that can't be helped. We can't very well work in the dark, now can we?"  
  
Drake shrugged again. He noticed it with annoyance; a clear sign that he was tired. Usually he avoided shrugging people off, because he hated when someone did it to him. "Suppose so."  
  
JJ turned to look at him. "I think you could use some lightening up yourself, senpai."  
  
"The overwork's getting at me, I guess." They had reached the door of the shooting gallery. Drake smiled and ruffled JJ's hair. "You just worry about kicking ass at the range today, okay?"  
  
"Okay, senpai." JJ winked and disappeared through the door.  
  
Drake continued along the hallway, and it was not until he reached the provisions' that he realized JJ had managed to make him smile again.  
  
***  
  
Drake managed to get the light bulb and the case file, and sat at his desk reading through Ted's first report when Dee appeared for an early lunch break. Not long afterwards Ted and JJ joined them from the shooting range, and even Ryou gave up working long before their usual lunch time when Dee went to get him.  
  
Drake was sitting on his chair, leaning against the wall, his feet propped up on the desk next to Ted, who had just given Drake a third blueberry muffin. Drake bit into it; the muffin tasted wonderfully home-made.   
  
"Muffin?" Ted offered to JJ, who was sitting on his desk, dangling his legs as if he couldn't quite keep still. He had scored number one at the range again and it seemed to bring him constant delight.   
  
JJ shook his head. "I've already had two, senpai."  
  
Ted looked at the remaining muffins. "C'mon, give me a hand here. I can't take any back home or she's gonna think I didn't like them."  
  
"Okay then, gimme one more," Dee said and caught the muffin Ted threw in his direction. "These things would kill me if someone baked me a dozen every morning."  
  
"But it would be a pleasant death, wouldn't you say?" Ted quipped, grinning, and Dee had to admit that it would.  
  
"I still say I could do that trick. Easily," Drake said, turning the conversation away from Ted's girlfriend's baking. The subject annoyed him immensely for some reason.  
  
"No way, Drake. With those new cups? You can't even *drink* from them! Bet you five bucks you won't be able to do it!" Dee announced, shaking his head in disbelief.  
  
Drake smiled at the thought of the free lunch Dee would soon owe him. "Sure I can. Watch." He got up and picked up his empty coffee cup. It was true that the new cups were flimsy and way too light, but he was confident all the same.  
  
Ted got to his feet, too, grinning, and followed Drake to the hallway with Ryou and Dee right on his heels.  
  
The building was old and badly in need of repairs - especially the ventilation system. Most of the ventilation racks were full of holes. The one in the hallway was directly connected to the rack in Drake and JJ's office. That's why if someone was smoking when they passed by, all the smoke drifted over to the office. The ceiling of the hallway was quite high and the rack very close to it, and there was only an about fist-sized hole in the rack.  
  
Ted looked at the rack and shook his head, laughing. "Dee's right, Drake. There's no way you'll ever hit that."  
  
Drake aimed at the rack and threw the cup. For a moment he feared he had used too much force, but then he heard a satisfying 'clank' as the plastic cup disappeared into the ventilation system. He turned around to bask in the unbelieving uproar that followed.  
  
JJ appeared in the doorway with the very same cup. "Fell from the rack right on my desk."  
  
"I can't believe it!" Ted burst out. "What are you, Michael Jordan in disguise?"  
  
"Nope, I'm just five bucks richer," Drake said and grinned, pleased with himself.   
  
They returned inside, where Dee took his wallet and, still shaking his head, drew out Drake's money. "Here. And would Mr. Michael Jordan care to join us at Sal's tonight?"  
  
"Sure," Drake said, nodding.  
  
"I promised Bicky I'd go over the new school papers with him," Ryou put in.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Dee turned to him. "Then you can join us later, okay?"  
  
"I don't know, Dee. I'm on an early shift tomorrow, and it's bound to take some time --"  
  
"All right, who can make it, then?"  
  
"Sorry, Gina's waiting," Ted said.  
  
Drake glanced at JJ, who shook his head.  
  
Dee threw his coat over his shoulder and said, "I guess it's gonna be just you and me then, Drake. We'd better head back to the filing fun, eh, Ryou?"  
  
Ryou's eyes widened. "Are you actually suggesting we should get back to work? Excuse me, who are you and where are you keeping Dee Latener?"  
  
"I'm not *suggesting* anything," Dee said with a sly smile.  
  
"Okay, now I know you're pulling my leg," Ryou said, smiling back.  
  
After Dee and Ryou had left, Drake chatted about football with Ted for a while. Finally, Ted also went back to work before the chief's sixth sense for slacking employees found him out.  
  
Drake considered going back to reading the report, then realized he had completely forgotten to ask Ted about the case. Oh well. It was mostly in the file, anyway. But the odd thing was that JJ hadn't reminded him. He had been strangely quiet.  
  
And still was. JJ was still sitting on his desk, staring into space.   
  
"JJ?" Drake walked over to his partner and waved his hand in front of his eyes. "Wake up."  
  
JJ blinked and smiled at Drake a little.  
  
"Something wrong?" Drake asked, leaning against JJ's desk.   
  
"No..." JJ looked down at his hands. "It just makes me a little sad."  
  
"What does?"  
  
JJ sighed. "Seeing them together like that. They're so... well, happy."  
  
"Dee and Ryou? I wouldn't say they were all that different from usual," Drake said.  
  
"Then you didn't pay attention." JJ looked at him and chided, "I told you you can be so dense when it comes to these things, senpai."  
  
Drake diverted his gaze and looked at the ventilation rack. He wondered briefly whether or not one could do the coffee cup trick backwards if one threw forcefully enough.  
  
Probably not.  
  
"Anyway, don't dwell on it. It really isn't like you. Makes me think you're going to jump off the building or something next."  
  
Oh great, and now he had made another reference to Friday.  
  
"I won't, I promise." JJ's smile was somewhat smug when Drake glanced at him. "Worrywart."  
  
"I just can never tell when it comes to you."   
  
At least that was true.   
  
***  
  
Drake was already finishing his first beer when Dee arrived at their usual hangout, a big but cozy bar not far from the station known as Sal's. Old Salvatore himself had long since abandoned the place to his son, but the name had stuck. Much of the bar's appeal was due to a certain lingering air of the past.  
  
Grinning like a toothpaste commercial, Dee sat down on the bar stool and threw his hair from his eyes. "Did you come here straight from work?"  
  
Drake almost shrugged, but this time caught himself. "Yeah. Tiff, when you've got a moment." He raised his empty glass at the bartender, who smiled at one of her best customers and nodded.  
  
Dee dug a cigarette from the pocket of his leather jacket. "I thought you had to look after that kid, what was his name, Steve? It's been ages since you've come here straight from work."  
  
Drake remembered why the idea of giving up smoking seemed so difficult: he needed something to do with his hands. He lit up and flashed a grateful half-smile to Tiffany, who came to fill his glass.  
  
"Yeah, well. Jill's gone as of last Thursday and so's Stevie."  
  
"Oh, hell. How'd that happen?"  
  
"How's it always happen? All women seem to have a one month attention span. Then one morning they wake up and decide that this is not what they want anymore. Damn if I know why." A bit embarrassed of ranting that way, Drake took a big gulp of his drink.  
  
They were quiet for a moment.   
  
When the atmosphere had become more comfortable again, Dee said, "I don't know if this is the right time to tell you, but..."  
  
"I think I can guess," Drake interrupted, grinning. "Patience really is a virtue, it seems."  
  
"Oh?" Dee looked surprised. "Did Ryou tell you?"  
  
"No. And like I said, I wasn't sure. But you just confirmed that the rumor is true." Drake raised his glass to Dee. "Congrats. When's the wedding?"  
  
"As soon as you guys lose enough weight to fit in the bridesmaid dresses." Dee laughed. "Man, I still can't believe it's true. It's been what, almost two weeks? The whole fuckin' forgery case just swam by. I never knew the time." His eyes had got a dreamy look.  
  
"I wish I could say the same!" Drake slowly shook his head. "First Ted and now you. So, will you get Ryou to bake us muffins next?"  
  
"If you mean that Gina, I give 'em three weeks, max," Dee said, raising his eyebrow knowingly. Then he grimaced. "Ryou would bake *me* in the oven before the muffins if I ever asked him to bake for you guys, so forget the idea."  
  
Drake smiled and stubbed out his cigarette.  
  
Dee continued, "But I guess I'm going to get him to cook for me now and then, since we're planning on moving in together."  
  
Drake almost dropped his glass. "What? Move in together?"  
  
"Yeah. It's already arranged and everything. Actually, it was a bit of a coincidence. You see, my landlord offered to sell me the neighboring apartment, and I couldn't say no to the price. My apartment would've become way too big for just one, so I got the idea..." Dee practically beamed. "I never would've expected Ryou to agree so quickly, but hey, he's been full of surprises lately."  
  
"So it seems. You're sure not wasting any time. But hey, glad to know the rumor was true." Drake lit up another one.  
  
Dee's face got a curious look. "Rumor this and rumor that. Who is the little bird, anyway?"  
  
"Actually, JJ."  
  
Dee first frowned, then blinked in surprise. "JJ?"  
  
"Yes, wiseguy, if you didn't notice, he didn't glomp you at work today." In all honesty, Drake had only a moment ago realized it himself. "He's sharper than he lets on. I think he figured it out some time ago."  
  
Dee whistled, still quite stunned. "Well... the way he follows me around like a puppy dog, I guess he's bound to notice first when something happens in my life."  
  
Drake narrowed his eyes and pointed his cigarette at Dee. "You can imagine what this must be like for the poor kid, so be nice to him, you hear?"  
  
"'The poor kid?'" Dee burst out. "Excuse me, but I think you've got it mixed up! *He's* the one who's constantly harassed *me* for years!"  
  
Drake opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again when he couldn't think of anything to say and took a drag of his cigarette.  
  
"Well, it looks like it's going to end now, so give him a break," he muttered.  
  
"Finally." Dee humphed. "Okay, I'll try and be nice to him, if he really has finally given up on me. Watchdog Drake can take it easy."  
  
"What was that supposed to mean?" Drake said, glaring at Dee while Tiffany filled their glasses again.  
  
Dee chuckled. "What I mean is that you're guarding that kid like a loyal dog."  
  
"I thought we're all doing that, to some extent, anyway," Drake said. "For example, we all still call him 'kid' although he's been at the station for nearly as long as Ryou!"  
  
Dee raised his brows and took a sip of his drink. "In my humble opinion, it's you who never gave up the habit and us others have just learned it from you."  
  
"Oh? Maybe so." Drake shrugged.  
  
Dee took another gulp. "I'm just going to empty this and then go home. Ryou didn't say anything, but I bet he'd like it if I was there when he talks with Bicky. The little parasite's going to move out of state to go to some basketball school."  
  
"He got a scholarship?"  
  
"Yep. There's no way that idiot would ever get into a school otherwise."  
  
"So that means it's going to be just Ryou and you, huh?"  
  
"Lucky, lucky me." Dee grinned smugly. "Oh, which reminds me. What I really meant to tell you was that Ryou and I are going to have a housewarming party next weekend. You're invited, of course. I meant to invite Jill and her kid, too, but..."  
  
"Then invite them, for God's sake," Drake said, although a bit darkly. "She's your friend's sister, anyway. Heck, you practically introduced me to her in the first place."  
  
Dee rubbed his chin. "If Barry's going to show up himself... He's on tour with his band, I think. All right then, if it's okay with you, I'm going to tell him that he can bring Jill along. And the party's on Saturday, I almost forgot that. Don't show up before four, because the place needs some tidying up first. The easel's still out and all."  
  
"Do you want me to tell Ted?" Drake asked. "You won't be on the same shift with him tomorrow or the day after it, either."  
  
"Yeah, thanks," Dee said and finished his drink.  
  
"What about JJ?"  
  
Dee paused for a second, then shrugged. "Oh, what the hell. He can come, I guess, if you look after him."  
  
"I'm not a baby-sitter," Drake muttered.  
  
Dee grinned. "Okay, okay. See you tomorrow, then."   
  
He waved his hand and walked out with the confident air of someone who has a person waiting for him back home.  
  
Drake was glad he hadn't told Dee about Friday like he had originally intended. He felt somewhat let down. He had thought Dee would be the one person who might understand, but apparently he was too wrapped up in Ryou right now to care about anything else. Which was understandable, really, but...  
  
Drake leaned his forehead against the palm of his hand and waved okay to Tiffany when she whisked away his glass one more time. He just felt so alone. 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Late mornings were somewhat of a problem for JJ. He was a morning person, which meant that he couldn't sleep late if his life depended on it. However, he always felt he had to do at least *something* to set the late mornings apart from the early ones. In spite of that, most of the time he ended up doing nothing at all. He'd wander around his apartment in his underwear, watch morning television and eat breakfast, forgetting he had already eaten it once, before it was finally time to leave for work. Not that the thought of work filled him with glee, but it put an end to the endless waiting. JJ had never been particularly good at waiting.  
  
This Tuesday he had tried to murder his time as efficiently as possible, but had ended up arriving at the station thirty minutes too early anyway. The station was quiet and sleepy; the people from the earlier shift were getting ready to go home, and others from JJ's shift hadn't yet arrived.   
  
JJ stretched his arms for the umpteenth time and finally decided that since he was here, he might as well get started. He picked up the case file from Drake's desk and started reading through it carefully. He had done some thinking last night, but wanted to check what Ted and Marty had had to say before drawing any conclusions. He'd meant to ask Ted about the case, but somewhere along the extended lunch break yesterday he had forgotten all about it. Of course, he couldn't trust Drake to remember it. Drake was never even half awake on Mondays, and this week he seemed to be downright hibernating.  
  
JJ flipped open the file and spread the photos of the victims on his desk as a sort of a background before diving into Ted's report.  
  
The first murder had taken place six days ago. The victim was a student, a black man in his 20s who had a clean record and no connection to any known criminals or gangs. Yet, he had been killed by a gunshot to the head, execution style, which immediately brought gangs to mind. It didn't help solve the puzzle that he had been killed in a small park in Bronx, in a pretty good neighborhood, the most unassuming place in New York. The second victim, a homeless, elderly black woman, had been killed the same way a day later, only a few blocks away. Then, after two days, a Korean restaurant owner, a 53-year-old man, had become the third victim on the opposite side of the city, in southern Brooklyn. Try as he might, JJ just didn't see any pattern behind the murders. He quickly looked through the other two victims; a 15-year-old Spanish girl and a black man in his 30s.   
  
*These people,* he thought, *would most likely never have even crossed each other's paths. The latest victim has a record for driving under the influence, but otherwise, they're all clean. So what would a gang want with them? No, it seems more like the work of some kind of a psycho, a lone killer. Considering that no one saw anything or even caught a whiff of the killer, he had to know the environment well and time his murders perfectly, since he committed most of them in public places. This is the work of someone who knows what they're doing.*  
  
He turned the page, grimacing as he came to the nasty part. The killer had executed the victims by shooting them in the head, but he or she had not stopped there. And the handiwork was pretty hard to mistake for someone else's. That had led first the beat cops and now their detective squad to link the murders together, even though they otherwise looked random and unconnected.  
  
JJ jumped a little when he heard the door being opened.  
  
"Morning," Drake said. His gaze wandered from his desk to the file in JJ's hands. "Oh, so I did leave it here after all." He began to take off his jacket.  
  
"Good morning, senpai," JJ said, then glanced at the clock on the wall and continued, "Well, it was morning a few hours ago. Did you read the whole case file?"  
  
Drake sat down at his own desk. "Yeah. Why do we always get these loonies?"  
  
JJ thought it silly to talk with Drake when he was on the opposite side of the room. He seemed miles away, even though the office was quite small. JJ blamed the desks; it was like they were shouting at each other over barricades or something. So he got up excitedly and crossed the distance between them, jumping to sit on Drake's desk.  
  
"So you don't believe in Ted's idea of a gang either? I knew it!"  
  
Drake jumped back a little. "Uh, no. Not really. Looks more like some kind of a specialist. What with the precise cuts and all."  
  
JJ began to dangle his legs and turned his attention back to the file in his hands. "Hey, that's interesting. You know what, senpai? The killer must have gone to medical school. How else can you remove the spleen that quickly? Imagine the mess if you screwed it up!"  
  
"I'd rather not," Drake said and made a face. "I'm going to go get coffee, do you want some?"   
  
"Sure. With too much sugar," JJ said and grinned at their old joke.  
  
Drake dug some coins from his pocket and left.  
  
JJ looked after him. Well, Drake seemed to be pretty much back to his usual self now. Good. JJ was running out of ideas of how to cheer up his partner, who certainly didn't make things any easier by insisting that *JJ* was the one who needed tea and sympathy. Drake could be such a pain, really. Downright impossible. Which partly explained why JJ liked him so much.  
  
Welp, no time to dwell on that, they had a case to solve. JJ picked up Drake's pen and started scribbling down the ideas he had got that morning.  
  
When Drake returned with the coffee, JJ had already made a plan for the rest of the day.  
  
"Senpai, we should probably start by going to talk with the Coroner to get a clear statement on what kind of a gun was used. Ted and Marty didn't seem to get that far yet. Oh yeah, and the other weapon, too, you know, what the killer used to cut out the spleen and mutilate the feet and dig out the teeth."  
  
JJ glanced up from his notes to see if Drake was listening.  
  
"And don't forget the slicing up of the earlobes," Drake said. "Thanks for listing all the gruesome details. But yeah, sounds fine to me. Didn't Ted write something about the weapon, though?"  
  
"No, Ted-senpai just wrote that... uh, wait a sec..." JJ looked around for the case file, but Drake had already found it.  
  
"'A sharp, accurate weapon, most likely a knife'," he read aloud. He laughed, which assured JJ once and for all that he really was back to normal. "Sharp and accurate weapon? Might be a friggin' pencil for all we know. Let's go and find out for sure."  
  
***  
  
The visit to the Coroner's didn't amount to much. They learned that Ted and Marty had been right so far; the wounds had been done with a surgical knife. The cuts were accurate and certain, almost impossibly expertly made, which hinted at someone who dissected people for a living.   
  
JJ raised the cover and looked at the latest victim's feet to see for himself what the photos always seemed to leave so vague. JJ was a hands-on person; he needed to actually see the details before they became real to him. The feet had been slashed deep at the ankles. Clean cuts, right to the bone. A small chip of the shinbone had been cut out along with the flesh. The coroner helpfully told them that judging by the amount of blood on the victims' feet, this had been done while they were still alive.  
  
That put JJ to thinking. He was no psychologist, but at the moment, he tried to do his best at it. Why couldn't he think of this killer as a good doctor gone bad? There was something he was missing, and that worried him.   
  
Drake was trying to chat him up when they walked back to their car, but JJ didn't really pay attention to him - although he *did* remember to check out his partner's ass when he bent down to open the car door. Realizing this, JJ kicked himself for not concentrating hard enough. But it was too late; his train of thought had already vanished when he got into the car and slammed the car door shut.   
  
Their lunch, which they ate a little past six PM, was cheap Chinese food from a nearby restaurant. JJ unwrapped his food hungrily and grabbed the wooden chopsticks.  
  
"How come you always have to eat garlic chicken?" he complained. "It'll be days before the smell leaves the office."  
  
Drake glanced at him over the newspaper he had spread open on his desk. He always borrowed the papers from the counter. Janet didn't seem to mind letting him have them after she was done reading them.   
  
"I don't like any other Chinese food." Drake speared some chicken on his fork and put it in his mouth as he went back to reading the Sports pages. "If it's double garlic, it's edible. I don't complain about the weird shit you eat."  
  
"Nobody's going to want to kiss you after all that garlic," JJ went on.  
  
"It's not as if anyone wants to kiss me whether I eat it or not," Drake said to his newspaper.  
  
JJ had to eat a few mouthfuls before replying. Funny how hungry a visit to the morgue could make you. "I'd kiss you." He was pleased with his nonchalant tone as he said it. If he handled it right, he could continue teasing Drake for as long as he liked, and he did like it.  
  
"Oh, sure." Drake flashed him a very quick smile. "I feel all warm and fuzzy already."  
  
"I said, I *would* kiss you if you weren't such a bastard." JJ took another bite of spring roll. "A bastard who eats smelly food," he added with his mouth full.  
  
"JJ, shut up before I remove your spleen with a pencil."  
  
JJ burst into laughter, which brought him near to choking as his mouth was still full of food, and he started to cough frantically. Drake looked at him and sighed as if to say it hadn't been *that* funny.  
  
A knock on the door interrupted their intellectual moment. Ted opened the door immediately afterwards and came in. He had a file in his hand.  
  
"Why, yes, I *would* like a fortune cookie," he said, grinning, and grabbed himself an empty chair from the corner. Apparently he had smelled the garlic all the way to his office. JJ would have said something to indicate it, but he was too busy trying to keep from dying a very embarrassing death.  
  
"Are you having a Kill Your Partner Day, or what?" Ted asked.   
  
*He could at least try to pat me on the back!* JJ thought, miffed.  
  
Drake stood up, the familiar look of concern on his face. "Jesus. Are you all right, JJ?"  
  
Ted looked around and opted for stealing JJ's fortune cookie. Unfortunately for him, JJ's quick reflexes were still intact even though he could hardly catch his breath. He slapped his hand down on the paper bag and tried to kill Ted with his ultimate Evil Glare. Nobody touched his fortune cookies.  
  
Drake walked over to JJ and patted him helpfully on the back. JJ coughed weakly a couple of times, and nodded that he was okay. He wiped his watering eyes and regained his composure.  
  
"Better?" Drake asked. He looked as if JJ had really come back from death's door, his eyes all big and sad. Oh, but JJ did like his eyes.  
  
"Yep, I'm fine," JJ said, looking Drake straight in the eyes, mentally telling himself to eventually stop doing it. Noticing Drake was getting uncomfortable, he averted his gaze slightly and gave Drake the best smile he could manage.   
  
*Now go back to your desk and finish that smelly stuff before the whole station is here for fortune cookies,* JJ thought, but hadn't the heart to say it out loud.  
  
Ted, apparently giving up the cookie hunt, opened the file he had brought with him. "Well, if you're not gonna die just now, I wanted to show you this." He pulled out a folded map that said "New York City" on it. JJ quickly cleared his desk of all the trash and Ted spread the map on it so that they could all see.  
  
"I know we're off the case, but you know, I gave it almost a week of my time. I just couldn't get it out of my head like that." Ted pointed at circles that were drawn on the map with blue Magic Marker. "I was doing some paperwork yesterday and then it just hit me. Look at the murder locations."  
  
JJ quickly connected the circled place names to the victims. The old woman on the northern side of Bronx, near Van Cortlandt Park... where JJ often used to go jogging.  
  
"Well, it looks like the murders have been committed in two main areas," Drake put in. He pointed at Bronx, where the first victim had been found, then at Brooklyn.  
  
"On almost opposite sides of the city," JJ said, nodding.  
  
"So it would seem. But look at this." Ted took a pen from his pocket and connected the circles indicating the murders in or around Brooklyn. The result was an almost perfectly vertical line. "The murderer didn't commit the murders in the chronological order, but if he had, he would've moved northwards, as if following a straight line. Now look at the others, in Bronx."  
  
"Damn, they form a vertical line, too," Drake muttered.  
  
Ted connected the circles. "See? Only this time, it's as if he moved southwards."  
  
JJ tapped the map with his finger. "But Ted-senpai, the murderer didn't follow these lines. The first two murders were committed in Bronx, but the next murder was in Brooklyn. And the fourth was back in Bronx again. It doesn't seem like he was planning his route beforehand."  
  
"This can't be a coincidence. You could draw a straight vertical line through all the places where the victims were found!" Ted said, and using his pen, demonstrated it to JJ and Drake.  
  
Drake scratched his chin. "One thing. There haven't been any murders in northern Brooklyn or around Long Island City, although the line goes through the area."  
  
"Of course!" JJ practically bounced up and down when he realized what Ted had meant. "That only means that the line is closing in! The next murders will be made around that area!"  
  
"And then the murderer will have made a straight line to cut New York in two." Drake sighed. "I don't like to admit it, but that gang theory of yours is starting to sound plausible."  
  
Ted grinned. "Hey, I don't just pull these ideas out of my ass, you know."  
  
Drake seemed to remember his food and returned to his desk. He picked up the container and started hurriedly finishing the chicken. "Except that I can't imagine why a gang would want to separate the eastern New York from the western side. And why the mutilations? This is all in way too big a scale for a normal gang. And if it was a bigger gang, we would've most likely heard more about them."  
  
JJ wasn't ready to give up on his single killer theory just yet. He agreed with Drake; it was all too complicated for simple, territorial gang murders. It was much more likely that there were just one or two people behind the murders. Still...  
  
"Thank you, Ted-senpai," he said aloud. "We'll think about it."  
  
Ted stood up and smiled. "Always happy to be of help. I just hope you'll solve it soon so that the damn case won't bother me anymore. But I've got to go now, I have a huge pile of paperwork waiting for me."  
  
"Uh, wait up, Ted!" Drake quickly gulped down the last remains of the chicken and continued, "Dee asked me to tell you that he's having a housewarming party next weekend."  
  
"A housewarming party?" JJ asked, momentarily forgetting all about the case. "Has Dee-senpai moved?"  
  
Ted looked slightly taken aback. "Well, why hasn't he said anything before?"  
  
Drake raised his brows meaningfully. "Dee's not moving anywhere. Ryou's moving in with him. So, will you be able to make it?"  
  
JJ frowned, confused. He thought he was the office expert when it came to gossip about Dee. "What? I haven't heard anything about this! When did Ryou-senpai --"  
  
"That's all I know. You're going to have to ask Dee and Ryou. I'm just an errand boy," Drake interrupted, and started to gather the trash from the takeaway lunch. JJ thought he rustled the wrapping papers more than was strictly necessary. Obviously further questions weren't wanted. JJ pouted and glared at Drake annoyedly.  
  
Ted laughed. "I was wondering what Janet was talking about when she said her chances of dating Ryou are now officially gone! The office rumor mill amazes again." He shook his head. "Ah, what's a normal heterosexual guy to do around here? You're my only hope, Drake. If even Ryou can be converted --"  
  
"If Dee was here, he'd say you're nowhere near as pretty as Ryou, so don't worry," Drake said with a wide grin plastered on his face.  
  
"Why on earth would I want to be? As long as women find me irresistible, what do I care?" Ted retorted smugly.  
  
"Then why haven't you yet won that bet on Linda? It's fifty bucks, Ted, and you're not going to see it."  
  
JJ sighed overdramatically. The bet on who would first take out Chief's secretary Linda Bromley, the office beauty, had been going on for as long as he could remember. His annoyance grew when he realized Ted had given Drake the distraction he had wanted. JJ was positively bursting with further questions about the latest news of Dee-senpai, and now it seemed both Ted and Drake had decided to make sure he wouldn't get to ask them.   
  
"Drake-senpai," JJ said aloud, "don't you think we should tell Chief that we've narrowed down the area? The local police have to be informed. And that report isn't going to finish itself, you know."  
  
"Yeah, in a moment." Drake glanced at JJ, then turned back to Ted. "Yes or no?"  
  
"Hell no, if someone's going to win that bet it's m --" Ted started.  
  
"Not the damn bet, Dee's housewarming party," Drake said, interrupting.  
  
Ted shrugged. "I'll do my best. If I don't get killed by a paperwork monster, then it's a deal. Tell Dee I'll call him. Cheers!" He left, whistling.  
  
JJ managed to remain quiet for the time it took to fold up the map Ted had brought and put it into the case file with all the photos. Then he took a deep breath and fixed his determined gaze on Drake.  
  
"Senpai, how come you didn't tell me earlier?"  
  
Drake seemed to have been deep in his thoughts. It took a moment before his eyes focused on JJ. "Huh?"  
  
JJ wanted to smack him on the head with the file he was holding. "About Dee-senpai and Ryou-senpai moving in together! How come you didn't say anything? Did you think I'd get upset or something? I can't believe you'd keep something like that from your own par --"  
  
"Hey, hey," Drake interrupted, scowling and raising his hands in defense, "that's not what - damn, JJ, I wouldn't --"  
  
JJ pursed up his lips. "You would! That's why I'm asking."  
  
Drake's gaze wandered along the walls and the floor. He looked annoyed; irritated, even. Yet his eyes had inexplicably turned sad. It was the sadness that JJ simply didn't want to see. He started to regret his outburst. Drake could look so lost and confused.  
  
"Dee said you're invited, too," Drake suddenly blurted out, speaking to the trash can in the corner.  
  
"Really?" JJ tried for a bright tone.  
  
Drake sighed and gave JJ a vague glance. "Look, I did mean to tell you. I only heard about it last night myself."  
  
"Oh, that's okay, then," JJ said quickly, trying to turn the atmosphere lighter. "Great, if it's Saturday, I think I'll be able to make it! But come on now, let's hurry up and finish the report to Chief."  
  
Drake seemed to relax; his shoulders slumped down slightly and he gave JJ a weird half-smile as he sat down in his desk. "What's your hurry?"  
  
"Oh, I thought I'd go to the gym. It's been ages since I've last been there." JJ stretched his arms. His joints ached. "I'm a complete wreck after all that sitting in the car on the last case."  
  
JJ had always disliked stakeouts. It was downright unnatural to sit and do nothing for hours on end. JJ just wasn't suited for that. He had to go buy coffee all the time to keep himself occupied. More coffee naturally only made it worse, and Drake had wailed that he wasn't keeping watch with a partner but a Duracell bunny. Not that it had mattered with regard to the case because it had all turned out to be for nothing, anyway; it was the 25th Precinct guys who had been following the right lead. JJ was itching to get back to the action again, once the paperwork that always came with a new case was dealt with.  
  
Drake kept his eyes on the paper he was quickly writing on. "Yeah, I know what you mean."  
  
"You should come with me. I'll bet you could use some workout, too." JJ smiled innocently. He knew Drake wouldn't be able to say no after he had teased him a little.  
  
"No, I don't think so. I'm going to go home and turn in early. I could use a good night's sleep for a change." Drake finished his part of the paperwork and stood up. "All done? Then let's go."  
  
JJ waited outside Chief's office while Drake handed their first report to Linda. Of course Drake took his time doing this; JJ could hear Linda giggling through the door. The damn redhead had to flirt with everybody, didn't she? Talk about giving false hopes. He wondered idly if Drake actually stood a chance winning the bet, but in the end convinced himself that it wasn't likely.   
  
Finally Drake reappeared into the hallway.  
  
"Ready?" JJ smiled brightly at him.  
  
Drake made a face. "I told you, only for an hour or so. I really have to get some sleep."  
  
JJ nodded, putting on his most innocent face. "Sure thing, partner."  
  
***  
  
The night air was nippy against their skin when they left the gym. The smell of old leaves filled the air and reminded JJ of fall. Was this supposed to be spring weather? At least it wasn't windy like the day before.  
  
Then again, maybe that wasn't a good thing, either. With the air standing so still, the silence started to turn from companionable to uncomfortable.  
  
JJ sighed under his breath. He wished Drake would start the conversation for once. JJ couldn't understand why, but he had a feeling that Drake was biting back something he wanted to say.  
  
And he had a hunch of what it might be about. Of course; last Friday. He should never have bawled his heart out that way. It wasn't Drake's business, anyway, if JJ was so lousy at picking the ones he loved. What had he been thinking? Well, granted, beer had done some part of the talking for him, but that didn't explain it all. JJ had never needed to tell anyone just how much it gnawed at him to be in love with someone who didn't give a rat's ass. He had kept it all to himself - and perhaps that was why he had been able to deceive himself for so long.  
  
"Didn't you drive?"  
  
JJ's head snapped up. "What?"  
  
Drake looked at him funny. "Why are you walking this way? I thought you drove to work."  
  
JJ shrugged. "That's okay, I'll walk you to the metro station."  
  
Hell if he'd let Drake leave before his partner had coughed up the furball he seemed to keep in his throat.  
  
*Friday.* JJ bit his upper lip. *What am I supposed to say? Well, okay, so I kissed my partner. He was being so nice and his eyes went all sad and warm. I'd kiss Linda Bromley if her eyes ever looked like that. Okay, maybe not her...*  
  
It was not the first kiss that worried him - and most likely Drake, too - but the second, and JJ knew it. He had told himself not to think about the second one, because, frankly, he had no idea what it had been all about.   
  
JJ had taken Drake to a new restaurant that had just opened not far from the police station. It had seemed interesting, and didn't let him down on that account - every dish was named after a 50's hit song. The rock n' roll food hadn't been half bad, either. All through the dinner and their first few beers, JJ had talked. He hadn't been able to stop himself. He had told Drake about his time in the Police Academy, how he had bribed the person in charge to give him a locker next to Dee's in the gym; everything, really. Drake, in turn, had grumbled and mumbled a lot, but had among it also talked about Jill. He had mentioned some people called Stevie and Matt, but JJ couldn't quite remember who they were and what they had to do with the big picture. JJ was vaguely relieved that he didn't remember nearly all that had been said, and he doubted Drake did, either.   
  
They had both been drunk. The night had been cold, just like tonight, when they had stumbled out of Sal's. JJ remembered feeling warm and satisfied from head to toe. His stomach had still been pleasantly full from the early dinner, and the buzz of alcohol had kept the nasty deep thoughts away for several hours. Drake had hailed a cab and, miraculously, one had stopped almost right after he had done so. They had been chuckling at some joke that had long since escaped JJ.   
  
Drake had opened the cab door, then squeezed JJ's shoulder fondly, smiling. He had said something like "thanks", but what he had done next had permanently erased the exact words from JJ's mind. When JJ had opened his mouth to answer, Drake had closed it with a warm, firm kiss that had tasted like beer.  
  
JJ had watched the cab take him away, and never in his life had he felt so strongly that he had been had.  
  
"It's damn cold out here."   
  
That was the second time Drake had broken the silence. JJ shook his head clear of recollections and decided to give direct approach a try. Maybe he could just quickly throw the cat on the table and hope it didn't scratch his eyes out.  
  
"Yeah, isn't it? And last week was so warm. You'd think some universal clock started ticking backwards on last Friday and it started to turn back to winter again."  
  
Drake didn't say anything. He buried his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket.  
  
JJ wanted to kick something. He had tried. What was he to do if Drake refused to grab the easiest bait he could think of?  
  
They reached the stairs leading down to the station and Drake stopped, his back to JJ. He seemed to take a deep breath before turning to look at him.  
  
"Okay. What about last Friday? Just goddamn *say* it, JJ."  
  
JJ tried to pack as much encouragement in his eyes as he could. "I thought maybe *you* wanted to say something."  
  
Drake looked around, frowning. "Look, JJ - could we just forget about it? Whaddya say? Just drop this subject now, once and for all."  
  
JJ looked at his loafers. "Sure, senpai. No problem."  
  
"Right." Drake was still frowning. He waved at JJ absent-mindedly as he started descending the stairs. "See you tomorrow."  
  
"Good night, senpai."  
  
The headlights from a passing car blinded JJ for a moment, and when the lights passed, Drake had already disappeared.  
  
*Tit for tat, I guess,* JJ thought as he started his walk back to the police station where his car was parked. The ends of his coat flapped against his thighs.  
  
The wind was rising. 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Drake woke up to a sharp ringing sound. He raised his head and blinked a few times before reaching out to shut the damn alarm clock up. Hadn't he just closed his eyes? After throwing the clock angrily to the floor, he came to think that his alarm clock didn't ring. He groaned and grabbed his cell phone from the night table.   
  
He answered it, his voice hoarse from sleep. "What?"  
  
JJ sounded excited. "Someone who could be our suspect was caught red-handed in Long Island City."  
  
Drake sat up, glancing at his wristwatch on the table. Friday, 8:12 PM. He had gotten himself a nice six hours of sleep, after all. "They've got him in custody?"  
  
"Not yet, they're after him right now. I'm right behind the corner, meet me outside!" JJ said and hung up.  
  
Drake hastily got dressed, grabbed his gun, badge and keys and ran out. JJ was already waiting for him in his car when Drake stepped out of the apartment house. JJ leaned over to open the door for him. He looked like he could hardly sit still behind the wheel.  
  
"Hurry up!" he said, and before Drake had closed the door behind him, stepped on the gas.  
  
"What direction is he going to?" Drake asked.  
  
JJ kept his eyes on the road. "Bushwick station."  
  
Fuck. Not that way.   
  
Drake frowned. He couldn't help worrying.  
  
"It's the way it goes, isn't it, senpai?" JJ glanced at him, half-smile on his lips. "First the case seems like a dead end and nothing happens, and then we finally strike gold."  
  
"It was just a matter of days, we knew that," Drake said. "Turn left next."  
  
"But senpai, that'd take -"  
  
"I know where it's going to take us. But there's less traffic on that road. And there's a bigger chance we could come to the station without being seen." Drake closed his eyes and opened them again. Little stars danced across his vision. He needed to shake the sleep out of his system before they got there.  
  
JJ turned left in the next intersection as told, but looked at Drake questioningly. "How do you know, senpai? You don't have a car."  
  
Drake just shrugged.  
  
*Because I used to drive this way with Jill and Stevie. Jill would come to pick up Stevie after I had looked after him, and then she'd drive us three to her place.* He tried to stop thinking about how close to Jill's house they were heading.  
  
They had turned away from the wider roads, and in the darkening night, their surroundings were almost black until they saw the station ahead of them. The signs of the shops and diners around it shone in pale neon colors. JJ pulled up and called the commanding officer on the case to tell that they had reached the station. He said okay a few times and hung up, putting the cell phone back into his pocket.  
  
"What're they saying?" Drake asked.   
  
"Our guy's still heading this way, in a white Datsun. They've got the street blocked ahead of him, so I think we should keep our position for now; he might well turn this way." JJ pricked up his ears. "Listen."  
  
Drake could hear the sirens, too. He checked his gun and rolled open the window.  
  
"JJ, let me drive. You have a better chance of hitting anything in this darkness."  
  
"We don't have the time!"  
  
A rusty white car sped past the alley.   
  
"There he is!" JJ announced and turned the car nearly sideways so that it blocked the alley. With any luck, the suspect would drive straight to their trap.  
  
Drake heard a screeching sound that he felt in his teeth. Rubber was burning somewhere not far away. He leaned out of the window slightly and took aim at the opening of the alley, waiting for the white car to appear. The sirens were now so loud that the patrol cars couldn't be more than a block away.  
  
He didn't have to wait for long. The white car returned to the way it had come from and turned in a dangerously looking curve to the alley. The headlights were a blinding contrast to the darkness of the alley. Drake aimed at the tires, painfully aware of the lack of a clear view of what he was shooting at. He fired three shots, but that didn't slow the car down. If anything, the driver picked up speed and was now coming straight towards them.   
  
Drake sat back down. "Move out of the way, JJ, he's not stopping!"  
  
JJ squeezed the steering wheel with his left hand and kept his gaze fixed on the approaching car.  
  
"I said get us out of the way!"  
  
In the last moment, JJ turned the car away, and the white Datsun only scraped its left side as it passed them. JJ didn't lose a second before speeding after it. Drake glanced behind them. Two patrol cars were right on their heels.  
  
"We gotta stop him before he gets to the highway," JJ said.  
  
"I know!" Drake leaned out of the window again, but had to pull back quickly in order to not be hit by a trash can. Damn but this alley was narrow! He tried again and fired two shots towards the car ahead of them. This time he heard the satisfactory sound of the bullet piercing the tire.  
  
He sat back down again to dodge the shots coming from the patrol car behind them. The white Datsun veered uncontrollably to both sides, apparently losing another tire. Those beat cops sure knew how to shoot.  
  
Suddenly, just when Drake had expected it to turn left to the highway, the white car veered wildly to the right and screeched to a halt. JJ had just enough time to hit the brakes before crashing into it. Unfortunately, the cops behind them weren't so quick; most likely because they couldn't see the suspect's car as well as JJ and Drake could. The patrol car hit JJ's car from behind and made Drake almost kiss the windshield. He managed to break the dive forward partly, using the hand that wasn't holding the gun. Still, he hit his head and couldn't help groaning. JJ unbuckled himself and turned to look at him.  
  
"Are you okay, senpai?"  
  
"He's getting away," Drake said, shooing JJ off. Now he was very much awake, but the stars had returned with a vengeance. "I'll catch up!"  
  
JJ nodded, looking worried, but did as he said and got out of the car.  
  
Drake could hear several voices shouting, "Freeze! NYPD!" and people running. He took a deep breath, blinked rapidly to clear up his vision and threw open the car door, stepping out. He felt a nasty pain in his head as he got on his feet, but ignored it, joining the two men in blue that ran to an even narrower alley that branched off the one they were currently on. One of them switched on the flashlight, and in its light, Drake could see the cops running ahead of him - and someone, most likely their suspect, quickly turning behind a corner ahead of them. Someone fired his gun. Drake assumed it to be JJ, because the shot hit the brick wall right behind the suspect. In the dark alley, that wasn't a bad shot.   
  
He span around the corner among the last, only to see the alley widen into a bus stop where it met the wider street. One of the beat cops was firing his last shot after a car that was quickly moving away from sight. The other two were collectively cursing the bastard who had gotten away.  
  
JJ came to him. He was, like Drake, out of breath. "He had a car waiting for him. A big, expensive-looking car; I couldn't catch the registration number."  
  
"Shit." Drake put his gun away and breathed deep in order to stop his heart from racing. He heard the blood pound in his head. "'Least we got his car. There must be something inside."  
  
One of the beat cops shook his head at Drake's remark. "Wasn't his car, detective. He stole it from the victim."  
  
JJ suddenly moaned and slapped his hand to his forehead, as if remembering something. "My car!" He hurried back to the alley they had come from. The beat cops followed him, in much less hurried pace.  
  
Drake stopped one of them. "My partner said you caught the guy red-handed. How's the victim?"  
  
The cop scratched his sandy blonde moustache. "She's being taken to the hospital as we speak. Looked like she'd pull through."  
  
"Who called you?"  
  
"A friend of the victim's, or so it seems. He's probably giving his statement to the boys at the crime scene."  
  
"Okay, thanks." Drake nodded to the officer and jogged after JJ.  
  
He found JJ looking at the smashed rear end of his car sadly. Two of the beat cops were speaking on their radio with someone. The alley seemed oddly quiet now.  
  
Drake came over and patted JJ on the shoulder sympathetically.  
  
"I had only had it for three years," JJ said, sounding like his favorite pet bunny had just died. "It'll cost me a fortune to get it fixed." Then he suddenly kicked the patrol car that was in an even worse shape. "Dammit!"  
  
Drake found it amusing that JJ never seemed to use stronger words than "damn". If it had been *his* car, all hell would've broken loose.  
  
"C'mon," he said, "let's go check out the crime scene."  
  
Grudgingly, JJ obliged and followed Drake to the other patrol car.  
  
***  
  
The drive to a small park in the middle of a shoddy-looking housing development didn't take long. They got out of the car and walked over to where a couple of men in blue were standing near swings and a slide that were scrawled full of graffiti. The place looked vaguely familiar to Drake. Then again, this kind of shady neighborhood always did.  
  
He flashed his badge to the nearest beat cop, a red-haired young woman. "Detectives Parker and Addams. I hear you've got someone for us?"  
  
The cop nodded primly. "This way, Detective."  
  
Drake glanced at JJ to make sure he was following and found him looking intently at something in the rose bushes around the swings.  
  
"JJ?"  
  
"You go talk to the witness, senpai," JJ said, going over to look more closely at whatever he had detected, "I'm going to check out something."  
  
Drake nodded and walked over to where the beat cop already was. On the bench sat a spot-faced, skinny boy that looked to be about sixteen years old. He was wearing only a sickeningly purple t-shirt and jeans. Drake shuddered in sympathy; he was cold in his long coat. The boy's eyes looked almost ready to pop out of their sockets. He was not just freaked out because he had seen someone almost get killed; he was talking so fast that the beat cops obviously had trouble understanding what he tried to say, and he was continuously drumming the ground with his other foot. His frog-like eyes couldn't seem to focus. Drake could've sworn the boy was on something. It had been a while since their squad had last dealt with drugs, but Drake guessed that it might be speed.  
  
The beat cop that had showed Drake the way looked at him and shook her head. Her red hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail and she constantly changed her weight from one foot to the other. She wasn't half bad-looking.   
  
"I'm afraid you're not going to get much out of the boy. He's high as a kite - most likely angel dust. We're suspecting he came here to meet a dealer, got his fix, and took it all after calling us, to forget the horror of witnessing an attempted murder." The woman looked around like a cat that knows the mouse is hiding somewhere in the vicinity. "We've busted two teenagers for drugs in this neighborhood."  
  
Drake found himself staring at her. He quickly looked away and said, "Uh, well, good thing he managed to call, anyway. Have you got anything out of him so far? Any description of our suspect?"  
  
The cop shook her head again. "Nothing more than we could see ourselves. A tall man, about 6'5"; short hair, dark clothes. We'll send you the full report, of course."  
  
Drake nodded and rubbed his chin, wondering where to go from here. He glanced at the boy again; it was no use trying to get a clear statement from someone flying that high.   
  
"Detective!" called one of the cops who were trying to talk to the boy. "Can we take him to the station?"  
  
"Yeah, okay. I want his statement once he's able to give one."   
  
As if the kid would remember anything that had happened. Drake nodded thanks to the red-haired cop, who seemed to realize the way he was looking at her and turned away to help take the boy into the patrol car.   
  
Drake shoved his hands into the huge pockets of his coat and walked over to JJ, who was talking with some of the cops on the far edge of the park.  
  
JJ looked up when he approached, and for some strange reason Drake felt like he had a guilty conscience. Was it because of the redhead? ...What the hell was he thinking, anyway?  
  
"We were just tracking the way the suspect left the scene," JJ explained, making a sweeping gesture at the uneven grass and ugly rose bushes. "Officer Moe here said he saw him drop something when they approached from the street over there." He pointed at the street between two dull gray buildings in front of them. A big garbage can had fallen on the ground and the trash was blocking the street.  
  
"He ran through there?" Drake took a few steps closer. "He could've lost his hold of whatever he was holding when he tripped over that garbage can over there."  
  
"Like a murder weapon, Detective?" one of the cops asked cockily, grinning.  
  
Drake flashed him a quick smile. "We should be so lucky. But it's worth checking out, anyway."  
  
He turned to JJ, leaving the trash digging to the beat cops. "The victim's still alive and apparently, able to give a statement. Isn't this a detective's dream?"  
  
Drake could hardly see JJ's crooked smile in the poor light. "If you say so, senpai." JJ sighed and kicked the ground.  
  
"Still pissed about what happened to your car?"  
  
"Yeah, thanks for reminding me." JJ grimaced. "Can we leave now? I want something to eat."  
  
Drake looked around. "I think so. Tell your blue-clad friends to send the report if they find anything; I'll go see if I can hail a cab."  
  
***  
  
They were both numb with cold when the cab finally arrived. JJ had called someone to tow his car to the service station and seemed to be in a slightly better mood now that his car was being taken care of. Drake should've known JJ'd care for a rusty old Toyota like it was his girlfriend.  
  
Boyfriend. Whatever.  
  
Drake rubbed his hands together, more out of habit than because it was cold, and glanced out of the window. They were only a few blocks away from his apartment house. "That burger stand near my place okay?"  
  
JJ nodded, and when he looked at Drake, the usual cheery expression had returned to his face.   
  
Drake had been expecting it to happen soon enough. "Hell of a way to start the day," he said.  
  
"Well, it woke you up, didn't it? I wish we had more car chases."  
  
Drake chuckled. "Shows you were never a beat cop. Stop here, please," he then added to the driver. He didn't look forward to leaving the comfortably warm car.  
  
After emptying his wallet to pay for his share of the fee, it occurred to Drake what day it was. He cursed under his breath.  
  
"I need to draw out some money," he told JJ and pointed at the ATM at the corner. "You go on ahead."   
  
Drake was so goddamn lousy with money. He should've remembered what day of the month it was before buying that new TV the day before. Unless a good fairy godmother had happened to walk by and magic some money on his account...  
  
No, and he hadn't really thought so. It wasn't as if the Lady Luck had been on his side before. He drew out the minimum possible amount of dollars and sighed. Gabbie would be so pissed off now. This was the second time this year.  
  
He walked around the corner and to the greasy little burger stand, sucking his teeth.  
  
JJ was stuffing his face with the kind help of the biggest cheeseburger Drake had ever seen. He couldn't say anything at the moment - really, Drake wondered how he could breathe - but raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
Drake shook his head and leaned over to order his usual bacon burger with fries. "Nothing. I'm gonna get brutally killed, 's all."  
  
JJ finally swallowed and said, "By who? Oh, wait, don't tell me - another ex?"  
  
Drake glared daggers at his direction. "I bow at your powers of deduction, JJ."  
  
"Calm down, I'm just curious. What brought her to your mind all of a sudden? *I* don't often think about my ex-boyfriends when I use an ATM." JJ ate a ketchup-soaked fried potato. "Is that some kind of weird hetero thing?"  
  
Drake couldn't stop himself quickly enough. "As a matter of fact, yes. It's called the alimony payment. Which I won't be able to pay in time this month, which, consequently, is going to get me killed."  
  
Luckily, the stand keeper offered him his burger, which distracted him a little. Still, Drake could've hit himself on the head. It was bad enough that he would have to make the unavoidable apology call and listen to Gabbie tell him what a fucking insensitive jerk he was, but he felt he had let Matt down, too. Drake felt bad for him, not Gabbie.  
  
"Alimony?" JJ repeated. Drake glanced at him as he bit into his bacon burger. His partner's eyes were as big as saucers.  
  
"I never told you about Matt?"  
  
JJ shook his head slowly. "Not that I remember, no."  
  
"Well, he's my son. That simple."  
  
Drake realized that he hadn't really told about Matt to anyone except a girlfriend or two, and old friends like Dee. It hadn't seemed relevant. Drake had to admit it was kind of strange that JJ didn't know. Surely JJ must've seen in the papers that he was divorced, but... Jesus, they had been partners for nearly eight years and he had never even mentioned it?  
  
*I guess Jill might've had a point when she called me secretive,* Drake thought. *I prefer "private person", though.*   
  
"What about his mother?" JJ asked.  
  
Gabbie. Drake snorted. How was he supposed to describe Gabbie to someone who had never met her?  
  
"She's... it was something stupid I did back when I was in high school. Teenage romance sorta thing. I wouldn't mind forgetting all about her, but there's Matt to consider."  
  
JJ finished his burger, frowning. "Ouch. Sometimes I'm glad I don't have problems like that."  
  
"Only sometimes?" Drake grinned a lop-sided grin. "You can be a walking Gay Pride when you want to."  
  
JJ grinned back. "When I want to, yeah." His grin quickly faded away and a slightly worried expression replaced it. "You do get visitation rights, don't you?"  
  
Drake looked up at the sky, where stars were dim and distant. "Technically, I do. But she stayed back in Wisconsin when I moved here, so it's pretty damn hard to find the time."  
  
JJ made a sympathetic noise and put his hand on Drake's shoulder. "How old is he?"  
  
"Ten next month." Drake looked at JJ, smiling a lop-sided smile. "Why? You don't even like kids."  
  
Drake was glad that JJ was there. For once, JJ helped him feel comfortable. It was probably because he was concentrating all his energy on killing his hamburger instead of bouncing around the place. Not that Drake really minded that, either, although if he ever admitted as much to JJ, he'd probably tease Drake to death and hop like a kangaroo around the office for days on end. Sometimes Drake found himself suspecting that JJ was intentionally trying to provoke him. He couldn't even guess why, but when it came to JJ, very few things made sense to Drake.  
  
JJ shrugged cheerfully. "I don't know. It just seems to me he's important to you." He cocked his head and smiled adorably. "And I do like *you*."  
  
Drake had no idea how to reply to that. Since when had JJ casually tossed comments like that to him? Heck, he was downright flirting. Wasn't that the Dee-Senpai Method? Drake quickly took a bite of his burger.   
  
Maybe that was just JJ's way of trying to forget about Dee? If that was the case, Drake could accept it. He had to admit that he sort of liked it, even. It had been some time since someone had flirted with him. Even if it was just his work partner being his crazy self, it was still nice ego feed. Even if JJ was a guy.  
  
*Really,* Drake thought, chuckling to himself, *I know way too many gay people.*  
  
"What's funny?" JJ asked, nudging him.  
  
Drake shook his head. He couldn't wipe the stupid smile off his face.  
  
JJ started to say something, but the sharp ringing of his cell phone interrupted him. He quickly wiped his hands on a paper napkin and fished his cell phone from his breast pocket.  
  
"Addams. Uh-huh, that's right." He listened for a moment, then exclaimed, "You're kidding!" He looked at Drake. His eyes were shining. "Okay, send the Forensics Lab report with the other papers. Right. Okay." JJ nodded and hung up.  
  
Drake had finished his burger and stuffed the papers into the garbage can. "They find something?"  
  
JJ grinned and raised his thumb. "A surgical knife."  
  
"Well, how about that!" Drake scratched his hair. "Lady Luck's fickle today, it seems. Was it really among the-- "  
  
"The garbage, yes!" JJ laughed. "The Forensics should be finished with it by Monday."  
  
Drake began to dig his cigarettes from his pocket. "We should call the hospital about the victim."  
  
"Yeah. But the officers I talked with said that she had been in a pretty bad shape. The suspect had started on her feet, and you know what that means." JJ faked shivering.  
  
Drake lit up. "Did they say if she was conscious?"  
  
"She was knocked out first. Well, naturally, the guy couldn't work on her if she was struggling."  
  
"Right, of course. So we won't get anything out of her today. Maybe we could check her tomorrow before we go over to Dee's."  
  
JJ nodded and looked away. To Drake, it seemed like he was reminded of something unpleasant.  
  
"You still want to go there tomorrow? Isn't that like rubbing it in?"  
  
JJ sighed a little and scratched his hair. "Sort of. But I have to learn to live with the thought." He glanced at Drake with an exasperated look on his face. "I'm not a fragile flower, y'know. I can take it."  
  
"Sure, I just..." Drake shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette.  
  
"You just worry. I know." Drake could hear the smile in JJ's voice, although he wasn't looking at him. "That's what I like about you. You come off as this quiet tough guy, but you're really a softie underneath it all."  
  
Drake didn't like the way this conversation was going. He didn't like being analyzed. It felt like he was being stripped naked in the street. No matter if JJ was right or not.  
  
"You're starting to sound like one of my exes," he growled.  
  
"Why the heck not? You've kissed me."  
  
All right, that did it. Drake straightened up to leave. "I gotta get going. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"Aw, Drake-senpai! You know I didn't mean --"  
  
Drake threw away his cigarette as he walked away.  
  
Shit. Why did JJ have to start -- why did he have to be like that? He was such a fucking tease. And without any clear reason.  
  
*You've kissed me.*  
  
He had been drunk. That was it. He'd done more stupid things when he'd gone out to drink with Dee - not to mention when he was younger. Hell, he had ended up married with Gabbie! So what did that prove? Maybe nothing. But he couldn't deny that he'd done it. He remembered reasoning, with the beer and the three shots of bourbon swimming between his ears, that since JJ had kissed him, he had to return the favor. He had laughed at the thought at first, but when the opportunity came...   
  
He had found he had actually *wanted* to do it.  
  
Drake cursed under his breath as he slammed the door of his apartment house closed behind him. It occurred to him that this was the second time he had walked away when JJ had brought that damn kiss up; he had stomped off like an offended, tight-assed fucking idiot.  
  
It occurred to him that he had a problem. 


	4. Chapter Four

Common Ground 4/?  
  
Author: NeekerBreeker(@fanficcer.zzn.com)  
  
Pairing: Drake x JJ (+ some Dee/Ryou)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Timeline: After the Epilogue. Contains massive spoilers for the whole series.  
  
Keywords: Romance, Drama, Action, some Angst.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not Matou Sanami, JJ's not an idiot and Drake exists, dammit.   
  
====  
  
"Ryou, what are you doing?" Cal asked, exasperated. Her hair was threatening to escape from the bun she had tied it into and she tucked her hair behind her ear with one hand as the other held a whisk menacingly.  
  
Ryou smiled and raised his hands, trying to play peacemaker. "I was just checking the oven."  
  
"It's been ten minutes! They won't be ready for another fifteen minutes at least, so shoo." Cal hit him playfully with the whisk and went back to whipping the eggs.  
  
"Okay, okay. You're in charge." Ryou turned to leave. He tapped Bicky on the shoulder on his way out. "C'mon, Bicky, we have a lot of cleaning to do."  
  
Bicky took a candy from a bowl on the kitchen table and put it into his mouth, turning to watch what Cal was doing. "Yeah, in a sec."  
  
Ryou sighed, crossed his arms and watched him, shaking his head. Bicky might've reached the hall ceiling at Ryou's apartment, but he still hadn't learned to listen to his elders. Luckily Ryou was patient enough to wait, because eventually, Bicky did what he was told. He just always had to do it in his own pace and time.  
  
Cal turned to poke Bicky, leaving a trace of flour on top of Bicky's nose. "No, you can't have a taste. And stop eating those candies, they're for the cakes!"  
  
"What? I only ate two."  
  
"You ate four. Now kiss the cook and get out of my kitchen."  
  
Bicky grinned and gave her a quick kiss.  
  
"C'mon," Ryou said and led Bicky out of the door, "let's leave her to work her magic."  
  
The apartment was a mess. The renovation and redecoration, Ryou moving in and now the party preparations, all in rapid succession, had resulted in something just short of chaos. Bicky had claimed Ryou's apartment as his when Ryou had moved in with Dee. The lease didn't end until the end of the next month, so it was only convenient to have someone live in the apartment until then. Not to mention that Ryou really preferred Bicky having his parties in a place Ryou didn't have to clean up afterwards. But in the last few days, Bicky had been helping out with the moving and redecoration, so he had pretty much moved into Dee's apartment, too. Cal followed with him, naturally, and with the four of them there, the place was getting stuffy and messy, because both Dee and Bicky seemed to radiate disorder wherever they went.  
  
Not to mention that it was hard to get any private time with Dee, both of them being so busy with work and the renovation - and now with Bicky and Cal there, to boot. The restroom at the station had never seen so much action.  
  
Ryou picked up one of Bicky's sneakers from the couch and handed it to him. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'll vacuum the TV room and the hall. You go take a mop, a bucket of water and a floor cloth from the broom closet over there and mop the floors and wipe the surfaces."   
  
"You can't *see* most of the surfaces," Bicky pointed out, looking pointedly at the pile of five empty pizza boxes on top of the TV.  
  
Ryou smiled at him briskly. "That's why you're going to clear them while I'm vacuuming." He patted the protesting Bicky on the shoulder. "There are trash bags in the closet."  
  
Bicky turned his cap's visor back. "But I was just gonna call Rai and ask if he's coming."  
  
Ryou sighed. "We've been over this, Bicky. You can stay for a while, but you, or your friends, are *not* going to stay for the whole party. You have your own place now, so why don't you take your friends there?"  
  
"'Cause all the food and drink's gonna be here."  
  
"If you're planning on eating all the food, snitching all the alcohol and then running back to my old apartment, you're dead wrong, mister." Ryou took Bicky's cap and put it back on his head the right way around, pulling the visor down to cover his eyes. "Mop."  
  
"Aw, man..."  
  
Ryou went to get the vacuum cleaner and, picking up random pieces of food and clothing and putting them on the table for Bicky to go through, vacuumed the TV room and the hall. The rest, he left for the kids; he'd already done his share of the work. It was about time Bicky and Cal stopped lying around bumming food and started doing something. Ryou wiped his brow on his sleeve and put the vacuum cleaner into the corner. He glanced at Bicky to make sure he was working. Now Bicky and Cal had something to occupy themselves with, which meant that he could sneak away for a while. He threw an empty Coke can from the bookshelf to the trash and went to the newly renovated part of the apartment, in search of his payment for all the cleaning he had been doing that day.  
  
***  
  
Finding Dee was simple: Ryou just had to follow the cursing. They had had a lot of trouble with the electric wiring in the room that was going to be Dee's "music room"; his new stereo equipment needed more sockets than he had at first thought, and they had had the electrician over two times already. Ryou's computer was also going to be in that room, so they wanted to get the wiring right. Right now, the room was empty except for Ryou's desk and chair; there was no way Dee would endanger his precious stereo equipment by keeping it in the room while the renovation continued.  
  
Dee was standing on Ryou's wheeled office chair, trying to get the shade of the pendant lamp to stay in place. He looked about ready to give up, and growled at the lamp as if threatening it would make it do his bidding. The chair swung dangerously as Dee forcefully tried to thrust the shade into its place.  
  
"C'mon, you fuckin' no good piece of shit..." he muttered from between his teeth.  
  
Ryou walked to him and put his hands on the back of the chair to keep it from swinging. He looked up at Dee - and, admittedly, his butt, which was right in front of Ryou's face, nicely clad in worn-down jeans. Ryou could almost hear it calling for him. "Still fighting the good fight?"  
  
Dee turned around. He wore a bandanna to keep the hair off his face. A drop of sweat slowly made its way down his throat. Ryou stared at it as it disappeared under the collar of Dee's white t-shirt, which clung to his skin at his pecs...  
  
Ryou couldn't believe how easily he could get a hard-on these days. His cock seemed to think he was a teenager again. And all the trigger he needed was standing right in front of him with a lamp shade in his hand.  
  
Dee made a face. "I can't get the fucking thing to stay in place. I don't suppose you remember how you did it when you put it up in your bedroom?"  
  
The words "fucking" and "bedroom" struck a chord in Ryou. Dee must've seen the 'sex-now-and-not-a-second-later' look in Ryou's eyes. Normally, Dee would've pounced him already. Was he playing a game, teasing Ryou until he was ready to burst out of his pants? He'd done that sort of thing before. Ryou wasn't sure, so he decided to play with him, for now. "No, sorry. I got it from my aunt; she said it was antique, so it's no wonder it's difficult to adjust."  
  
Dee hopped down from the chair - something that would've resulted in him spread out on the floor if Ryou hadn't been holding the chair for him. Not that it was that far from Ryou's objective, of course.   
  
Dee put the lamp shade on the desk with an air of defeat. "Oh, what the hell. I'll look at it again tomorrow. We're not gonna allow guests into this room anyway, so what's the hurry?"  
  
Ryou fanned himself with his hand. "Hmm, point taken."  
  
"How's Cal doing? No signs of smoke yet, so I suppose the kitchen is still intact?"  
  
Ryou was getting tired of the game. He wanted to get out of the impersonal, unfinished room. Was it just him or was this room hotter than the rest of the apartment? Could well be, since it didn't have any windows or other means of air-conditioning. And how long would Dee see fit to ignore the bulge in his pants? But Ryou wasn't ready to admit defeat yet. "If Cal destroyed the kitchen, that would be the last she ever saw of it. Or anything made in it."  
  
"Aaww, come on, lover," Dee said and grinned - if Ryou had had any doubts of whether or not he had noticed Ryou's condition, they vanished now, "we still have the other kitchen for you to be domestic in."  
  
Ah, to hell with it. Ryou closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Dee's waist demandingly. "There are other places I'd rather be domestic in right now," he said in a low voice, starting to lick and kiss Dee's throat. The salty taste and the feel of Dee's quickening pulse against his lips made him growl deep in his throat.  
  
Dee let out a choked laugh and grabbed Ryou's head, burying his fingers in his hair and forcing him to kiss his throat more forcefully. Dee's other hand crawled to Ryou's butt. "How long was that - almost ten hours with no sex? Damn, I've taught you too well."  
  
Ryou nibbled at the sensitive skin under Dee's jawbone, then moved up to look him in the eyes. "Stop taking all the credit for yourself." Dee leaned forward and Ryou kissed him as deeply as he could, the sparring of their tongues the only thing he could concentrate on for a while. Dee's hands wandered to Ryou's belt buckle, hastily opening it and pulling at the buttons of his jeans, and somewhere along the way Ryou untied the shirt from Dee's hips and let it fall onto the ground.  
  
Ryou pulled back to catch his breath again. "And... and that's *eleven* hours you've kept me waiting." He tugged Dee's shirt up, letting his hands feel the warm skin and the familiar form of Dee's upper body.  
  
Dee came to his assistance and pulled the shirt over his head, then crossed his arms over his bare chest and smirked. "I still win with the seven years *you* teased *me*, you naughty little vixen."  
  
Ryou couldn't help laughing. Did Dee even realize how silly he sounded, calling him by a new cheesy pet name every minute?   
  
"Not 'crafty love-bunny' like last night?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow as he slowly started opening the buttons of his shirt and taking it off, knowing Dee liked to watch.  
  
Dee licked his lips, his eyes taking on the lusty look that always seemed to burn holes into Ryou's skin. "Wise-ass."  
  
Ryou stepped out of his jeans and came to Dee, enjoying the feel of his eyes on him. "You should know all there is to know about my ass. Now, move it." He gave Dee a short but passionate kiss, snaked three fingers under the waistband of Dee's jeans and started dragging him towards the bedroom.  
  
Dee allowed Ryou to pull him along to the hallway, but then wrapped his arm possessively around Ryou from behind and pulled him flush against his chest. "How come we never fuck in the rooms that are being renovated?" He sounded out of breath; his voice tingled with laughter and arousal. "First I thought you were obsessed with only doing it in the bedroom, but..."  
  
Ryou silenced him momentarily by turning to kiss him and groped around until he found the door handle, then kicked the bedroom door open. "Welcome to reality, Mr. Latener. You're living with an orderly person who isn't big on - mmh - big on having sex in the m - hey! - middle of sawdust, dirty old newspapers and still-wet paint. Now get to the bed before I lose my nerve."  
  
Ryou gave the chuckling Dee a push towards the bed and, checking the hallway for the last time for the kids, closed the door behind them.  
  
He had to admit to himself that he liked the bedroom - Dee's paintings on the walls, Dee's bedside lamp, and Ryou's parents' old bed. It was a pleasant mix of the old and the new in his life. He got into the bed, absently noticing that it hadn't been made that morning. Well, all the better. He threw the covers to the side.  
  
"C'mere," Dee said in a low voice as he wriggled out of his jeans and briefs.  
  
Ryou helped him get rid of them, freeing Dee's other hand so that it could pull down Ryou's boxers. Kicking them somewhere, Ryou threw Dee down on his back and started kissing his way down his lover's chest. Today he was going to do with Dee as he pleased. He was getting to know most of Dee's sweet spots, but since Dee was always so loud during sex, it was hard to tell which they were. Or maybe Dee's body was one huge erogenous zone. It wouldn't be all that surprising...  
  
Dee groaned as Ryou let the backs of his hands travel over Dee's nipples. Ryou smiled against his upper stomach muscles. Slight touches always seemed to elicit the kind of reactions he liked best. He was suddenly reminded of the time Dee had shivered when Ryou had first licked around his nipples, then blown on them. Making a mental note to try it again soon, Ryou quickly kissed his way down Dee's stomach and sides, then brought one hand down to teasingly slide down Dee's shaft before gripping the base firmly.  
  
He looked at Dee's face. Dee was leaning against the huge pillow, half-sitting and half-lying, completely relaxed and open to his lover's touch. His eyes were half-closed and they gleamed dangerously; a wide, hungry smile was on his lips. He reminded Ryou of a large feline; his wildcat of a pet to tame and teach tricks to.  
  
"I seem to recall from the day before yesterday..." Ryou slid down so that he was lying comfortably between Dee's legs and gave the head of his erect cock a quick, but wet kiss, tasting the slightly bitter pre-come. Dee tensed and moaned deep in his throat. "I seem to recall you saying that I need a little training in this department." Ryou put his hands on Dee's thighs and looked up again, as if asking permission, which most obviously wasn't needed.  
  
Dee sounded out of breath when he laughed. "Far be it from me to say, but - oh, God, Ryou, yes..."  
  
Without waiting to hear Dee's reply, Ryou started licking and kissing down the shaft, trying to avoid the most sensitive spots, keeping in mind that he was supposed to slowly tease Dee. He had to use his hands to hold Dee's hips down when he moved to the head and took it slowly into his mouth, savoring the bitter taste and the warmth and the thickness.  
  
He pulled back after giving the head one careful suck. He glanced at Dee's face. "Don't forget to warn me, okay?"  
  
Dee answered by moaning demandingly and burying his hand in Ryou's hair, pulling his head back down. Ryou pushed his hand away; he didn't like it when someone held his head when he did this, it distracted him.  
  
Ryou licked his lips. How delicious and inviting could a penis look? Well, not much more than the one in front of him. He started by slowly licking from the base of the cock to just below the blushed head, remembering that this was his own favorite. Judging by Dee's groaning, he seemed to like it, too. Encouraged, Ryou took the cock into his mouth as far as he could comfortably manage. He expectantly pushed Dee's hips back down onto the mattress when Dee threatened to buck and choke Ryou. Starting to slowly move his head up and down around the cock, Ryou slid his hands up Dee's warm and well-toned body, tracing the tensed muscles and the ribs that could be felt when Dee arched up his upper body. He could hear Dee breathing in short, loud gasps. Ryou pulled away slightly so that only the head of Dee's cock was in his mouth before brushing his fingers over Dee's nipple.   
  
"Ahh!" Dee threw his head back and groped around for something to grab onto. "Again, Ryou, oh fucking *Christ*!"  
  
Ryou took the cock out of his mouth, then brought two of his fingers to his mouth, licking them slowly. Dee watched him, mesmerized. Ryou then moved his fingers up Dee's chest, tracing little paths, before catching a nipple between his fingers and slowly teasing it to harden into a cute, dark nub.  
  
Dee thrashed against the huge pillows. He was moaning loudly, but Ryou had become so accustomed to hearing Dee moan and groan like a tiger in heat when they made love that it had been reduced to pleasant background noise; the incidental music of their own private show. It still didn't mean that he would ignore it. He could tell Dee was close, and decided to be merciful. After all, he was starting to lose control himself, and he still had plans.  
  
Ryou took Dee's cock into his mouth again, this time letting his tongue awkwardly run across the very tip, allowing the salty, bitter taste to spread to every corner of his mouth. He pushed Dee's thighs onto the mattress forcefully, feeling the heat and the tensing muscles under his hands. The heat going through him in a delicious wave, Ryou began to suck on Dee, moving his head steadily up and down.   
  
Among Dee's frantic nonsensical muttering, one particular word made a sudden sense to Ryou. "Stop, Ryou, oh-my-god-you're... Oh holy motherfucking *God*, please, you have to stop now!"  
  
Ryou quickly pulled back. He sat up and kneeled between Dee's legs. He stared at his lover's beautiful cock, which seemed to draw his eyes to it automatically; knowing that with one touch, he could make Dee kiss the stars. Drunk on the feeling of power he had over Dee, Ryou reached out and, letting his other hand play with Dee's left nipple, stroked him until he let out a choked, shocked moan and came, throwing his head back.  
  
It was enticing; Dee was enticing, his whole body tensing for one brief moment, before totally relaxing against the crumbled bedsheets. His house tiger... Ryou stroked his own cock once, felt it aching under his fingers.   
  
Dee sat up, his movements feline and boneless as he wrapped his arms around Ryou and kissed him hotly and thoroughly. "Thanks," he said, his voice hardly audible against Ryou's lips. "You're getting wickedly good."  
  
Ryou smirked. "I'm not finished."  
  
Dee chuckled a little, tucking a few firm, sucking kisses under Ryou's ear. "I can feel you're not." His hand sneaked to lightly slide down Ryou's cock.  
  
Ryou had to mentally brace himself before he moved away and reached under the bed. It was this side of the bed, wasn't it...? Ah, of course it was.  
  
He threw the K-Y to Dee, ignoring the way his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Your turn to get moving. C'mere and prepare me."  
  
One of these days Dee was going to grin so wide he'd split his head open.  
  
***  
  
After finally making the painful decision to put on some clothes and leave the bed, Ryou found that they were running out of time; it was already half past three. The kids were now nowhere to be seen but they had obviously been watching TV at some point; you didn't have to be a detective to find out, given all the popcorn spread over the place. Two teenagers in love and a bowl of popcorn were too much for one couch, Ryou observed. A lovely scent came from the kitchen, something resembling good curry, but a touch different. What exactly was Cal making, anyway? She wouldn't say, telling Ryou only that it was her special recipe.  
  
Dee began putting together the music equipment and hunting for all his CDs, now scattered throughout the apartment like almost everything else.   
  
Ryou walked through the apartment. It looked okay; at least the rooms they didn't lock up for the party. That meant three rooms were off-limits, one of them rather spacious... Ryou tried to add in his head how many people would be coming and how they would all fit in. "Dee?" he called, wandering back to the living room.  
  
Dee looked at him from behind a huge amplifier he was setting into the corner as carefully as if it was a newborn baby.  
  
"How many people from Mother Maria's orphanage are actually coming tonight?"  
  
"Well, there's Nicky, and Chris and Bailey," Dee started to list, "and Barry, of course, and Barry might bring a couple 'a band members with him..."  
  
Ryou whistled. "I hope they're not spending the night. We have two apartments, and we can't even fit all the guys from work here."  
  
Dee put down the amplifier and shrugged. "So let's not pour all the vodka bottles into the punch."  
  
The kitchen door opened a crack and Bicky's frowning face appeared in the doorway. "Wait, wait, wait, you got several bottles? You said I couldn't have any 'cause you only have one! Dee, you fucking cheat!"  
  
"Bicky!" Ryou said reprimandingly.  
  
"What did you just call me?" Dee asked, in a dangerous, low voice, and pointed his finger demandingly at Bicky.  
  
"I called you a lying cheat!"  
  
Dee raised his eyebrows, sucked on his teeth and moved to stand in the middle of living room, his hands on his hips. "Bicky? C'mere for a sec."  
  
Bicky scowled at him. "What?"  
  
"Come on, I don't wanna talk to a disembodied head." Dee made a beckoning move with his hand, keeping his gaze down.  
  
Ryou had a hunch of what Dee had in mind. He smiled and leaned against the wall.  
  
Bicky emerged from the kitchen - Ryou would always think of it as Cal's Kitchen, he suddenly realized - and, looking only a little wary, walked over to Dee and faced him defiantly.  
  
Dee kept looking at the floor, not saying a word.  
  
"So, whacha-- " Bicky started, in a loud and obnoxious voice, but it immediately changed into a yelp as Dee grabbed his arm and, swiftly and effectively, twisted it behind Bicky's back, turning the youngster roughly around.   
  
Ryou might've been concerned if this wasn't his partner. He had Dee's bodywork down to a science and knew when Dee was truly mad and able to inflict damage, and when he was just playing the bad cop. All his moves were familiar to Ryou; he had observed them a hundred times when they were holding down struggling suspects. Dee knew what he was doing; he was just aiming to keep Bicky down.  
  
Dee took hold of Bicky's shoulder and, still gripping Bicky's other hand firmly, pulled Bicky down and to him. When Bicky started to struggle, Dee put him in a choker hold, forcing his head back. He moved close to Bicky so that his nose almost touched Bicky's cheek. "Look at me, brat. Look at me!"  
  
Grudgingly, Bicky turned his head a little and squinted at Dee. He was gritting his teeth.  
  
"Do I look like a fucking dumbass to you? Huh, do I?" Dee tightened his hold on Bicky's left hand, the one he had twisted behind his back; just a little, but Ryou could see Bicky wince.  
  
"No," Bicky said through his teeth.  
  
"'Kay, now that we got that figured, tell me what I would be if I gave a stupid 18-year-old street rat a bottle of vodka on top of all that cheap-ass beer you've got hidden in the closet?"  
  
"Let go of my fuckin' hand!" Bicky fought against Dee's hold, and Ryou saw Dee tighten his hold again. This time, it didn't stop Bicky, who tried to sweep-kick Dee off his feet. "Are you a big bad copper now, huh? Threatenin' a fuckin' kid?"  
  
Dee gritted his teeth, too, and Ryou could see he was using a lot of force now. "Answer the question, you little shit."  
  
Bicky coughed when the choker hold around his throat tightened. "You'd be... you'd be a fucking dumb... ass."  
  
"Good kid," Dee said, and let go. Immediately, Bicky spun around and punched Dee, trying to throw him down onto the floor. But Dee had been expecting it. He managed to dodge almost the whole punch, and grabbed Bicky's wrists again. This was his work, after all; he was trained to deal with people who'd try anything to get away from the cop trying to put them in.  
  
"We're finished!" he said to Bicky, in his loud, not-taking-any-shit -voice.  
  
Bicky snarled at him for a moment, then gave up and looked at Ryou, accusingly.  
  
"Dee has a point, Bicky," Ryou said simply. "I don't want to find you lying under the table all yellow in the face tomorrow."  
  
He turned his gaze to Cal, who had appeared in the doorway, her eyes big as the plate she was holding in her hands. "What are you doing?" she asked, sounding like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.  
  
Dee grinned. "Family discussion. You go back to your cupcakes, little lady."  
  
Cal's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why, you-- "   
  
Ryou grabbed Cal before she could march over to crash Ryou's only cake plate on top of Dee's head. "All right, I think that's enough domestic disturbance for tonight. Cal, are we finally allowed into the kitchen? Because something is smelling wonderful, and I'm dying to know what it is."  
  
"See if I cook for you ever again," Cal said, huffing, and glared at Dee. "I think I'll just take my spicy minced meat rolls and eat them with Bicky and Rai and Ras."  
  
"Yeah!" Bicky said, smiling smugly.  
  
"Cream cakes and chocolate mousse *and* minced meat rolls? Whoa, boy! I'm sorry for every bad word I ever said about you!" Dee kissed Cal's cheek, putting on his charm. "You little angel, pray forgive this sorry soul his faults and allow me into your kitchen of miracles."  
  
Cal smiled a crooked smile. "The way to a man's heart seems to really be through his stomach."  
  
Dee put his hand over his heart. "What can I say; you've seduced me."  
  
Ryou laughed. "Well, that at least explains why you've been over at my place for dinner so often." He put his arms around Dee's waist.  
  
Dee turned his head to give Ryou a kiss. "Nah, that just explains why you've made dinner for me so often."  
  
Bicky walked past them, pushing Dee out of his way. "I'm starving, so can we get into the kitchen o' love already and *eat* something?"  
  
"Not my minced meat rolls, they're for later," Cal said, bustling after him. "If you're hungry put some pasta into the microwa-- " The kitchen door clicked closed behind the two and muffled the rest of her sentence.  
  
Ryou chuckled into Dee's neck. "Looks like we at least won't starve tonight."  
  
"Y'know, Bailey's *bound* to bring something, too. He works in an Italian restaurant."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Dee turned around in Ryou's arms and wrapped his own arms around Ryou's shoulders. "Uh huh. And take a wild guess what Ted's gonna bring."  
  
Ryou raised his eyebrows. "Anything Gina has made for the occasion. Which means all it'll cost him is some sweet talk."  
  
"Can you believe that cunning bastard? We gotta make sure he doesn't get any minced meat rolls."  
  
Ryou laughed and kissed Dee's cheek. "At least the other guys're not likely to bring in their culinary wonders. Take JJ for instance; can you really imagine him cooking anything?"  
  
Dee made a face and pulled away, opening the kitchen door. "Yeah, he'll just bring a stun gun."  
  
Ryou rolled his eyes and followed him inside. "Dee, honestly, if you could only take it in a little more mature w-- WHAT THE HELL HAS HAPPENED TO THE KITCHEN?"  
  
***  
  
Since most of the guests came fashionably late, the party didn't properly begin until around eight PM. Their work buddies had been warned well beforehand, which meant that they had all fixed their shifts so that they had the whole evening off, and they were the first to arrive. Only JJ hadn't yet arrived, and Ryou was beginning to doubt whether he'd come at all. It would be understandable, but it still didn't feel right to him to exclude JJ when all the others from the squad were there, having fun. Oh, Drake seemed to be somewhat down, but Ryou didn't doubt that the evening would fix it. Drake really wasn't the sulking sort. And no matter what was said of Ted's cunning ways to keep from paying for a housewarming gift, no one complained when they saw the blackberry pie he brought. Apparently, Gina was from the South, in addition to being a domestic wonder.   
  
Ryou was eating his third piece when the doorbell rang again. He went to open it, licking his lips, knowing he was a mess.  
  
At the door stood a huge black man wearing a neat black-and-white-striped suit. His hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and he was grinning in an irresistibly honest way. As soon as you saw Barry's grin, you couldn't help liking him. Ryou had met him before, but not the short, sharp-looking woman beside him. On the other hand, the woman might've only looked short because she was standing next to Barry.  
  
"Barry!"  
  
"Hi, Ryou, it's been a while," Barry said in his deep, toe-curling voice and shook Ryou's hand heartily before Ryou even came to think of offering it.  
  
Ryou smiled. "Good to see you, too, and welcome. Who's your companion, I don't think we've met before?" The woman smiled readily, and suddenly Ryou understood. It was all in her mouth. "You wouldn't happen to be Jill, would you?"  
  
"One and the same." They shook hands; her grip was nice and strong, and all in all, she was radiating the same kind of immediate likeability as Barry. "Nice to meet you. Was it Randy...?"  
  
"Ryou or Randy, pick whichever you like. Hope you enjoy yourself, Jill." He moved out of the way to let the two in. "Better hurry if you want blackberry pie; there's nothing as hungry as a bunch of off duty police detectives."  
  
Barry laughed. Ryou could've sworn he felt it through the floor. "I bet our band could beat you guys on that account, ten to clean, plain zero. Dee!" he then shouted, and at least three heads turned immediately, "where're you hiding, you little scurryin' rat?"  
  
Ryou turned to look at Jill, who had picked up a glass and was pouring some punch for herself. "Are you in the music business too, Jill?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid I'm in ol' boring travel industry. But Barry keeps our family's eccentric levels from going down." She chuckled and took a sip of the punch. "I sometimes sing backgrounds when they're playing somewhere near and the time's okay with my schedule, but it's not a career for me."  
  
"I take it you grew up under Penguin's wing, too." Ryou took the meat roll plate and offered one to her.  
  
She shook her head. "No, thanks. I don't eat red meat. And no, I was raised in a foster home in New Jersey. I didn't find out I had a big brother until I was thirteen."  
  
Ryou looked down. He should've known; he had seen enough similar cases at work. Many siblings got sent to different orphanages and foster homes, some intentionally, after one sibling had committed a crime and the social workers didn't want their siblings to get bad influences. Technically, it was possible Dee had a sibling somewhere. But there was no way of knowing...  
  
*Even though it's painful to know my parents were killed,* Ryou thought, *at least I know for sure. At least I know.*  
  
"It must be strange, suddenly finding out you have siblings."  
  
Jill smiled a crooked smile. "Barry's been a two-hundred-percent big brother to me ever since we first met. I consider the past made up for." She took a cream cake, looking at it as if suspecting it had red meat hidden inside it. "You have to learn to do that sort of thing. Forgive and forget. I'm sure you guys have to do the same in your profession."  
  
"Yeah, that's true. We all have our ghosts, though. After a decade in NYPD, you'd have to be made of Teflon to not have gathered any excess baggage."  
  
Right after saying it, Ryou noticed Dee was looking at him through the crowd. He made a beckoning move with his head.  
  
"But, anyway, I think Dee wants to see you, too," Ryou said to Jill. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch."  
  
Jill followed his gaze to the couch where Dee was sitting with a couple of guests, including Barry, who was impossible to miss. "Tell Dee I'll be there, but first, could you show me where the toilet is?"  
  
"Sure. Go through that hallway, turn right and it's the door to the right." Ryou smiled. "The broom closet door next to it looks exactly the same."  
  
"Thanks," Jill said and nodded, and went off.  
  
Ryou poured himself some punch and went over to where Dee was sitting, in the far corner of the room where they had pushed the big TV room couch. Drake was sitting next to Dee, leaning his elbows on his knees, which made him look slumped, and Barry was showing Dee a CD.  
  
"It's like I say, a cover artist is only a cover artist if he's a pure hundred-percent anal retentive shithead," Barry was just stating.  
  
Dee raised his glass. "I'll take your word for it. Huh, Drake?" He elbowed Drake, who looked up and blinked like a bat in the daylight.  
  
Ryou sat on the armrest next to Dee and looked at Drake over Dee's head. "Were you on night shift yesterday? You sure look like it."  
  
Drake raked his hair off his face and twiddled the glass he was holding in his hand. "Nah. 'M okay."  
  
"But hey, Barry, let's go over your CD a little later, when everyone's here to hear it, too," Dee said rather pointedly, offering the CD back to Barry.  
  
Barry took it and fluidly, slipped it into his breast pocket. Or so Ryou thought, anyway; it happened too fast for him to see where the man had magicked the object.  
  
*Former pickpocket,* Ryou thought, automatically.  
  
"Sure, Dee. Catch you later." Barry turned and went to introduce himself to Ted.  
  
Ryou nudged Dee. "What's so important you had to send him away?" Dee just grabbed Ryou's punch from his hand. "Hey!"  
  
Offering Ryou's punch to Drake without looking at him, Dee said, "This guy here is dead set on getting piss-ass drunk, and as a good host, who am I to say no? By the way, smooth move to send Jill away before you came over."  
  
"I didn't - she left on her own!" Ryou looked at him incredulously. "Why would I-- " He then looked at Drake, who was now chuckling in a low voice. Suddenly, the pieces fell into their places. So Drake didn't like seeing Jill, despite what he had told Dee.  
  
"Is okay, I'm bound to run into her over and over again anyways." Drake gulped down Ryou's punch and gave the glass back to Dee. "It's my karma, or some shit like that. Good punch."  
  
Ryou frowned and reached over to put his hand on Drake's shoulder. Maybe Dee was okay with letting his guests do as they pleased, but they sure as hell didn't wallow in melancholy if Ryou had any say in the matter. "Hey, Drake, I'm sorry. I thought Dee said you were okay with Jill coming here, too."  
  
Drake laughed a little as he looked up at Ryou. His eyes were somewhat hazy. "Yah, well, it is. I am. I gotta speak with her anyways. She bring Stevie with her?"  
  
Dee looked at Drake, a half-smile on his face. "No, I don't think she did. And you're getting closer to your glorious goal; you're slipping back to Packer Country speech."  
  
Drake just smiled tiredly and got up to go to the punch bowl for a refill.  
  
Ryou looked at Dee, worried. "Is he going to be okay?"  
  
Dee chuckled and leaned back, wrapping his arm around Ryou's waist. "Yeah. Drake just needs to punctuate how much the world hates him, occasionally."  
  
"Yeah, but still..."  
  
"Don't worry about him. Drake should be used to getting dumped by now." Dee smiled a little and shrugged.  
  
Ryou's eyes suddenly spotted a familiar-looking vest among the crowd. "Hey, I think I just saw JJ." Bailey moved out of the way and Ryou got a clear view of JJ, who was leaning against the wall, talking with someone. "He must've sneaked in earlier when Nicky went to open the door for Marty."  
  
"Oh, great. Hide me."  
  
Ryou gave Dee the Look. Dee kissed him lovingly. Ryou could only be dumbfounded at his powers of distraction, because they seemed to work every time.  
  
Drake came back with his glass filled and sat down. Jill followed close behind him. She had tied her chin-length black hair into a ponytail, like her brother.  
  
"Dee," Jill said and smiled, "get up so that I can give you a hug."  
  
"Hi," Dee said, and grinning, did as told. "It's been far too long. I'm sorry I had to miss your gig last week. How did it go?"  
  
Ryou glanced at Drake. It was hard to tell, but to him it seemed that Drake wasn't as gloomy as before. On the other hand, Drake was on his approximately fourth glass of punch. He was watching Jill somewhat warily, although there wasn't much tension in the air.  
  
"Oh, fine. Some technical problems, but they're unavoidable." Jill let go of Dee. Her hug had a calculated feel to it. It occurred to Ryou that many of her moves did. They seemed like she had planned them all well beforehand. "This looks like a nice place you've got here. I love those bookshelves that are made of bricks. Gotta remember that one."  
  
Dee sat back down. "It's hell to renovate, but it's slowly starting to resemble some kind of a home. Hey, Bicky!" he then called, and Ryou's eyes followed his to the tall teenager, who was just picking up a piece of pie. Bicky took the piece, shoved his other hand into the pocket of his pants and sauntered over to them.  
  
"Weren't you supposed to get going?" Ryou asked, fixing a stern stare at Bicky.  
  
Bicky shrugged and took a bite of the pie. "I'm waitin' for Rai."  
  
"Bicky, say hi to Jill," Dee said, nudging Bicky with his foot. "She's Barry's sister."  
  
"Nice to meetcha," Bicky said and nodded to Jill dutifully. Then he noticed Drake and grinned smugly. "Hey, old man. If you want someone to kick your ass in basketball, I'm free."  
  
Drake grinned back. "You're dreaming, pal. And next time we're playing by real rules, not by your crooked street rat rules. You'll go down like a shot duck."  
  
Bicky chuckled. "I'll kick your fucking ass."  
  
"You're gonna regret you said that. Mark my words, you're gonna." Drake got up, going through his pockets to find his Down Town Lights. "Now, though, if you'll excuse me."  
  
Jill looked at him. She had a calculatedly kindly smile on her face. "I'll come with you to the balcony, I need some fresh air."  
  
Drake looked at her funny, then nodded absent-mindedly.  
  
Dee nudged Bicky with his foot again. "Go on, you get going, too. You've bummed enough food already."  
  
"Okay, okay! Stop kicking me!" Bicky rolled his eyes. "But I'll be back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff. Oh, and hey, Drake," Bicky then added, seemingly suddenly remembering something, "that JJ was looking for you."  
  
Dee laughed. "My, you're a wanted man all of a sudden, Drake."  
  
Ryou saw a strange expression pass over Drake's face at that comment. For a moment, he seemed very vulnerable, as if some kind of a mask had slipped off his face. His brows burrowed into a sad, concerned frown. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered softly and turned away. Jill followed him.  
  
Drake rarely had that look of raw feeling on his face. Ryou thought back, trying to remember when he had last seen it.  
  
*Oh, c'mon, Dee! Lay off the poor kid, already! JJ, are you okay?*  
  
Could it be? Now that he came to think of it, Drake had always treated JJ sort of tenderly. He was always looking after JJ, defending him when Dee lost his nerve with him. Sure, the two were partners, and partners looked after each other, but still...  
  
And what had that look on JJ's face been on Tuesday at the gym, when Ryou had spotted him staring at Drake? Ryou had only ever seen JJ look at Dee like that, and usually he was clobbered over the head for it.  
  
Dee poked him. "Hey. Whatcha plannin'?"  
  
Ryou shook his head slowly. "Nothing. I was just thinking you might've hit closer to the truth than you know." 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
A sore loser  
  
Yelling with my mouth shut  
  
The null of losing  
  
Can you afford that luxury?  
  
A sore winner  
  
But I'll just keep my mouth shut  
  
It shouldn't bother me  
  
But it does  
  
- "Small Victories" / Faith No More  
  
JJ wondered how long he, keeping the laws of common courtesy, could hesitate before going to say hi to Dee and Ryou. He had no idea, but felt stupid hiding in the crowd like this. Heck, he felt like he was crashing the party, in more ways than one. JJ had a pretty good hunch that he wouldn't have been invited if it wasn't for Drake's intervention. Drake could be so transparent - not to mention overly concerned. JJ couldn't decide whether he found it endearing or annoying at the moment.   
  
He fingered the keys in his pocket nervously. Since when had Drake got to him like that? JJ had long ago gotten used to Drake's fussiness. In fact, he hadn't really given it a second thought until recently. It was nothing too intrusive, anyway, and could be mostly ignored as one of the work-related things that had nothing to do with Dee.  
  
JJ shook his head slowly and sighed. It always came down to Dee-senpai, didn't it?  
  
"Hey, you!"   
  
JJ turned around to see Bicky glaring down at him. When had the little snot grown to be that big?   
  
Bicky asked in a rather demanding tone, "What're you doin' here?"  
  
"What's it to you?" JJ asked back. He felt somewhat intimidated seeing that the little brat he used to order around was now a tanned giant whose arm muscles told of years of extensive training - hopefully not in beating people up.  
  
Bicky snorted. "It's my place, too, y'know. You're not gonna ruin Ryou's party when I'm here!"  
  
"I won't. Now, why don't you get lost."   
  
"I'm gonna tell Ryou that you're crashin' the party."  
  
JJ sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, go tell him." Then, on the spur of the moment, he added, "And if you see Drake-senpai, tell him that I want to talk with him, okay?"  
  
The teenager shrugged defiantly and turned to inspect the various kinds of cakes and other food piled onto the long table. "Yeah, yeah."  
  
JJ glared at Bicky's back. Brat.  
  
He spotted Ted leaning against a wall only a few steps away, talking animatedly with a huge black man who had bright eyes and the deepest laugh JJ had ever heard. JJ thought he might as well go and say hi, so he poured himself a drink and walked over.  
  
"Ted-senpai," he said, nodding and smiling.  
  
Ted turned to him. He seemed to be in a good mood; there was a wide smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, JJ, hi. I thought you wouldn't show up at all."  
  
JJ shrugged cheerfully. "So did I, at first. Then I figured that I might as well check the party out."  
  
Ted patted him on the back and laughed. "That's the spirit! Hey, have you two met?"  
  
He introduced JJ to the huge man, who nearly broke all the bones of his right hand when he shook it and told him to call him Barry. Barry then immediately proceeded to tell a joke about him being called Barry Black when he was a kid because he had always sung in a deep voice and Barry White was already taken. JJ liked the guy immediately.   
  
During the conversation that followed JJ forgot all about his initial worries of whether or not coming here had been such a good idea. He started to become aware of the atmosphere and found that he liked it; the certain warmth that seemed to radiate from the very walls was very welcoming. It was easy to tell a lot of love had gone into making this place. Of course, he had been to Dee-senpai's apartment before, but this wasn't the same apartment anymore - it had morphed into something more alive, more intricate, more intimate. In a way it comforted him.  
  
This room hadn't been a living-room but a hall before. When he looked up he noticed that the room was very poorly lit; most of the light came from the other rooms and the big windows. That explained part of the warm, almost glowing quality the place had. JJ gazed out of the window, wishing he had big windows like these, too. It was dark out, but the lights of the city created a sort of a living, sparkling painting on the wall. JJ wasn't prone to staring into space, but the warmth of the atmosphere and the punch he was drinking lulled him into a comfortable state where he didn't have to think about anything for a while. He felt both tingly and content.  
  
Barry snapped him out of his reverie by, playfully, punching his side, which almost sent JJ, playfully, sprawled down to the floor. Barry had gone to get himself another roll of some kind, and had brought one for Ted and JJ, too. JJ bit into it and it tasted good. Of course it did. Nothing could possibly ruin the evening for him at this point. JJ even liked the music that was playing - some kind of jazz, with a little rhythm n' blues thrown in.  
  
"You like it?" Barry asked, raising his eyebrow, when JJ mentioned it aloud. "Then you're bound to like our album, too. Just got it out. Good stuff, I promise you."  
  
"I'd love to hear it sometime," JJ agreed.  
  
"Didn't you bring the CD with you, Barry?" Ted asked. "Go ahead and put it on - this album's been playing since I got here. Must be the third time I've heard this song."  
  
"Damn that Dee, he said he'd play it later." Barry looked over to the other side of the room - he could fairly easily see over most of the people's heads. "Needs a little reminder, I bet. C'mon, let's go." He grabbed JJ's shoulder and turned him to the direction of a large couch in the opposite corner of the room, starting to lead him there with him.  
  
JJ's heart sank into his expensive shoes. Okay, *almost* nothing could ruin his evening. In this intimate twilight, after a few glasses of punch, Dee-senpai was the last person he wanted to see. He feared he'd lose all control and turn into a helpless puddle of drool. There, he had admitted it; couldn't the powers that be at least give him a little leeway for being honest? Barry's hand was huge and demanding on his shoulder. No divine mercy seemed to be on its way.  
  
"I gotta go take a leak, I'll be right back," Ted said. When JJ managed to turn around to look at him, there was no sign of him anymore. JJ did his best to not appear like he was being taken to the Last Judgment.  
  
Dee was talking quietly with Ryou about something, sitting face-to-face with him on the couch. When Barry and JJ approached, they both looked up and pretty abruptly quieted down.  
  
"How's right now for 'later', Dee?" Barry asked, his voice booming and seemingly impossible to say no to, but yet somehow managing to remain friendly. "I got someone here who says he wants to hear our CD."  
  
JJ could feel Dee's eyes find him. Goddammit, those pools of dark, wild green made him freeze like a rabbit in the headlights. He fidgeted.  
  
"Hello, Dee-senpai," he said. His voice sounded toneless to his own ears. "Ryou-senpai."  
  
Ryou nodded to him in a friendly way, but gave Dee a worried glance. Dee hesitated for exactly three seconds before putting on a wide smile and saying, in a casual tone, "Hi, JJ. Sure, if you guys want to put on something else, feel free. Sorry, I think I got a little distracted, here. Do you know how to work the stereos?" He got up and went over to the music equipment without waiting for an answer.   
  
Ryou looked at them and leaned closer like a conspirator. "It's his new toy. Pretend you don't know how to insert a CD into a player, okay?"  
  
Barry laughed before following Dee. "No promises."  
  
JJ winced a little when the music abruptly stopped, even though he saw Dee press the Stop button. People glanced at them, but then went back to their conversations. Now that there was no background music, the sounds seemed more sharp and oppressive. JJ went over to the stereos, too, drawn by an irresistible force. Barry offered a nice human shield, and JJ made sure the big man was between him and Dee all the time. The punch and the warm lighting could really inspire him to do something he'd get thrown out for. While Dee and Barry were fighting over which song to pick and who'd get to put the CD in, JJ stole the CD case and tried to focus on the cover.  
  
His gaze slipped upwards, though. Dee was concentrating on the stereos; he wouldn't notice. God, he looked dreamy in the dim light, his dark hair gleaming in warm overtones.  
  
And his lips a darker shade than normally and obviously kissed.  
  
Dee looked up at him, suddenly. "I think that should work." His eyes left JJ's face and he glanced at Barry, who had turned to tell someone nearby who to thank for the long-awaited change in music. "So, uh... How're you doing?"  
  
How was he doing? He was walking on goddamn hot coals. "Fine, senpai. It's a very nice party; I can't think of anything I don't like about it."  
  
Except that he couldn't throw Dee down on the floor and ravish him like he'd never been ravished before. But that was an old one, and JJ had been able to ignore it for a considerably long while, hadn't he?  
  
Music started to fill the room, slowly and softly. It was the closest equivalent to chocolate JJ had ever heard. Chocolate and rum, with a particularly swinging rhythm.  
  
Dee wetted his lips and opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to get confused and just gave JJ an unsure glance. JJ knew he was gone after just witnessing both the tip of Dee's tongue and his seductively dark, searching eyes. He swallowed, his throat and mouth dry. Ignore Dee his ass; he'd happily jump off a cliff for just one taste of that slightly open mouth.  
  
"What did I tell you?" Barry hadn't been included in JJ's little fantasy world, but for a voice coming from another world, his voice packed quite a punch. JJ blinked furiously and quickly looked in Barry's direction.   
  
"Yeah, sounds fantastic," he managed to utter, or something like that, and then he forced his feet to move and fled. He needed something to cool his head off with. Maybe a glass of water. Or a bucket of it.  
  
He noticed the balcony door, let open to allow some fresh air into the apartment, practically the only spot he recognized as an unchanged part of Dee's old apartment. Okay, cool night-air would do, too. He went over to the doorway, but stopped abruptly when he saw there were people on the small balcony already. Namely, Drake and a black woman whom JJ didn't know. They were standing a good two feet apart, the most the small balcony allowed, and Drake was nervously trying to light up a cigarette. The woman had her back to the doorway. JJ quickly took a step away from the doorway and leaned against the nearby wall. Well, at least he'd finally found Drake. But he had a feeling Drake wouldn't appreciate having anyone barging in right now.  
  
The balcony wasn't big at all, and if there had been no wall, JJ would have been standing practically next to the two. He could even hear Drake cough under his breath and flick off his lighter.   
  
"Shit. Okay, you know we'll never get anywhere with this. I'm an asshole; fine. If that's what you want me to say, then okay, I can admit that."  
  
"Don't you dare just shrug it off with that," the woman snapped, in a voice of someone who isn't used to snapping at people. "Fine, let's drop it, then. But I'm not going to listen to you use the old pity card to get out of things."  
  
It got silent for a moment, and JJ thought the two might come in soon. Good; he wanted to talk to Drake. He idly wondered where the sudden *need* to see his partner had appeared from, but his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of Drake's voice.   
  
He sounded weary. "The landlord still giving you hell?"  
  
"Not really. I only had to show him the papers, and he was ready to admit that yes, pets are indeed allowed in the house. I think he even tried to pet Buster on his way out, but the blessed thing growled at him."  
  
Drake chuckled a little. "Yeah?"  
  
"Uh huh. And before you ask, Stevie's doing just fine and I'm going through hell trying to explain to him why you won't be around anymore." The woman paused for a moment, then went on, "How are you doing? I overheard something about a new case."  
  
Drake hesitated a little before answering, "Listen, Jill, I need to talk to you about that. The case, I mean. Totally against every regulation there is, but just listen to me, okay?"  
  
JJ frowned. He fought the urge to run to the balcony and slap his hand over Drake's mouth. He should know better than to talk about the details of a murder investigation with an outsider! No matter how important that outsider was to him. Heck, if Drake went around blabbering about his cases to all his exes, half of New York would know the gory details already.   
  
"We're after this guy who shoots people of ethnic minorities and cuts them up. Very ugly. You don't want the details."  
  
Jill interrupted him. "Why are you telling me this?" She sounded very calm and somewhat bored.  
  
"'Cause this guy's planning his route beforehand, and Bushwick's where he's going to kill next. He's going to make a perfect vertical line to cut New York in half, and he's almost managed to finish it. He's just missing one place to complete the work." Drake's words were slightly difficult to make out; his voice was flat, and he mumbled a little. JJ guessed that he might be drunk. "The line goes straight through your fucking neighborhood. I checked it this morning."  
  
"I'll be careful. I'm always careful. What do you want me to do, lock myself and Stevie inside until you catch the guy?"  
  
"I don't know, I just... be *really* careful, okay? These murders were not exactly planned. He doesn't care who he kills, as long as they're of ethnic minorities. He cuts 'em up, shoots fucking cop killer bullets into their heads, just to show off. He's... marking the territory, or something; anyway, his victims are nothing but landmarks to him. Only thing that matters is where they are. And you're standing right on a big X."  
  
"'Ethnic minorities'. I always thought your report-speak was funny. Fine, so there's a racist killer loose. Good to know, I guess. I was wondering why the cops had started to patrol around the block so often. I thought they were just after some crack kids."  
  
"Listen, I know it's stupid to tell you about this. But... Yeah, in any case, um, if you happen to see him, he's a tall, white man, with short, blond hair, around 40 years old. He might sneak to check the place to plan his next big number, so keep your eyes open, okay?"  
  
"Drake? I promise, I'll look after myself. And Stevie, and Buster. I understand your concern, and I am grateful, but don't wreck your head over it. You're not responsible for me and I don't want you to look after me, not more than your job obliges you, anyway." Jill laughed a little, an oddly artificial-sounding laugh. "And hey, speaking of your job, you'd better shut up before you lose it."  
  
"Yeah. You're probably right. Always are."  
  
A brief, uncomfortable silence followed. It seemed the two were heading back in. Well, finally. JJ glanced around to find something to do so that it wouldn't look like he had been eavesdropping. He couldn't spot anything, so he just leaned against the wall and knocked back the rest of his drink, putting the glass away absent-mindedly. Jill walked past him briskly. Apparently whatever she had wanted to say, she had now finished saying. JJ followed her with his eyes as she strode straight over to the couch where Dee-senpai was still sitting. Drake's voice made him spin his head right around.  
  
"Guess you're gonna have to bust my ass now."  
  
"What?" JJ said, feeling like a dimwit when Drake flashed him a smile that was almost a grin.  
  
"Fuck it, you just caught me red-handed. What kinda detective are you supposed to be?" Drake's gaze was wandering all over the place. He leaned against the wall with his other hand and sighed tiredly.  
  
"That was Jill, huh." JJ looked after the woman to punctuate, even though he couldn't see her in the crowd anymore. "She worth going to jail for, then?"  
  
Drake frowned, irritated and adorably timid. JJ couldn't help chuckling under his breath. His partner was acting like an unsure teenager, bless him. How could Drake, even after being married once and having a kid, still appear so lost when it came to women? JJ tried to imagine the same for himself - if after all these years, his world would still come to its end when the hunky brunette from the bar didn't call him back the next day. He started giggling; he couldn't help it.  
  
"Yeah, laugh all ya want, I'll be here all day," Drake said, but didn't sound bitter at all. He was still frowning, though. Good; JJ liked the way his brows burrowed together and gave his face a secretive look. You'd think Drake did it on purpose, to appear mysterious, but he just wasn't the type.  
  
"The heterosexual mating scene just giving me eternal amusement," JJ said with a smirk.  
  
Drake snorted. "Oh? Is this where I pull the fag joke?"  
  
JJ pretended to be hurt. "All right, all right. Aren't we sensitive tonight. Heard you talking about the cop killers, by the way; is it official?"  
  
Drake seemed relieved about the change of subject. "The bullets used were definitely AP's, most likely illegal. It's 90% sure that they were Russian. Jim's gonna call me later to confirm that. He said he'd get a word going round; ask about who we know is selling cop killers."  
  
"Okay, good. Boggles the mind, though - why use illegal bullets when there's no need? For a short-range shot to an unconscious victim's head, cop killers are damn showy, don't you think?"  
  
Drake nodded. "If this guy wants attention, he sure has all the money and the connections he needs to raise hell. Remember what we wrote into the last report - he's obnoxious, thrill-seeking. You never know what to expect from guys like that." He grinned. "Sounds like someone I know, actually."  
  
"Oh, shut up." JJ laughed and then dragged Drake over to the table to taste the rolls.  
  
They downed a few more glasses of the punch - it was a little too sweet to JJ's liking, but still okay - and chatted for a while. JJ tried to steer the subject away from Jill, but Drake, who obviously *did* like the punch, occasionally lapsed into grumbling. When his partner had withdrawn into gloomy silence for the third time, JJ sighed loudly.  
  
"Jesus, Drake. Ease up on the punch already, I'm pretty sure you can't drink her away from this room."  
  
Drake glanced at him vaguely as he put his glass down. "Oh, that's easy for you to say. When was the last time you had woman trouble, huh?"  
  
"May I remind you that you know quite a lot about my guy troubles?" JJ raised his brows.  
  
"And I suppose your solution to my problem is giving up on women for good?" Drake sounded amused. "Talk about transparent, JJ."  
  
"Don't knock it till you've tried it, that's all I'm saying," JJ said playfully, liking the conversation more and more. He briefly suspected that the punch he had just drunk had been stronger than he had thought. The sweetness had apparently covered the sting of alcohol.  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"No, really. I mean, you're an open-minded kind of guy. You've seriously never been with a man?" JJ leaned in, honestly curious. He must've asked Drake before, but he couldn't remember.  
  
"No," Drake said, with the mandatory I'm-straight-thank-you-very-much chuckle.  
  
"Never even been tempted? Give me a break."  
  
"I didn't say that," Drake said, then quickly looked away, realizing what he had just blurted out. Honestly, he was just too damn good in this shy-and-clumsy routine. If JJ didn't know better...  
  
"Oh ho?"  
  
"Hey, I didn't mean nothing by that. I just --"  
  
JJ didn't even bother to say anything. He just raised one brow questioningly, fully knowing how smug he must look.  
  
Drake made a face and scratched his hair nervously, but seemed to take JJ's teasing well. He usually did. "Nah, what I mean is, there's honest-to-God temptation and then there's vague wank fantasies, know what I'm sayin'?"  
  
"No, not really," JJ said.  
  
Drake's expression changed as he came to think of something. "So what about you, huh? You ever had the hots for a girl?"  
  
JJ didn't know whether to snort or guffaw, and did something that wasn't quite either. "You've *got* to be kidding me. Just... no. No way."  
  
"See? There goes your "open-minded guy" theory."  
  
"Good thing I never claimed I was one, then," JJ said and glanced over his shoulder. More guests had come in and the apartment was practically bursting with people, since it was still too early for anyone to leave. Why would they? The atmosphere, although somewhat suffocating, was so comfortable, and so warm... It dawned on him that it made him starve for some sort of human closeness. It was staring him in the face; all those laughing, happy people around him, and he felt left out. He sneaked a glance at Drake, who was staring at the crowd, too, his eyes glazed over. JJ bet he knew whom Drake had spotted.  
  
*Boy, we're a pair, aren't we.*  
  
"You interrogating me 'cause of that argument we had yesterday, right?" Drake suddenly asked, his voice quiet.  
  
JJ hadn't even thought of that. "No. I wasn't even aware of us having an argument. I just took a joke a bit too far. Sorry if I got you all worried." He looked up at Drake's face and the sheer warmth and concern almost floored him. Dear God, Drake *had* been worried about it.  
  
Drake's shoulders slumped down as he visibly relaxed. "Good. That's good. Don't want any squabble with ya, kid."   
  
He leaned in and mussed JJ's hair. Drake was the only one who JJ let do that; at the moment, he liked it, even. It was a sincere human touch. JJ didn't want it to stop. He took the chance and grabbed Drake's hand when he tried to move away to maintain the personal space all straight men held sacred. JJ looked into Drake's eyes, hoping that his baby blues would get the point across better than he could. It had worked before.  
  
A second of pure electricity passed, and JJ could swear, he could damn well *swear* that he had seen the same hunger in Drake's eyes, but then his hand was shaken off and Drake turned away, not killing the electricity but dispersing it.  
  
"Gotta call up Jim about the damn bullets," he muttered in a voice lower than JJ had ever heard him talk in and walked off unsurely.  
  
JJ looked after him. Was that the cue for him to forget all about it, agree to meet Drake the next day at the station, go home and feel sorry for himself? No, it just couldn't. It had been *there* and it had been real. JJ enjoyed the feeling of determination as it sunk in.  
  
Drake went over to the hallway that led to the bathroom, where he could hear the phone better. JJ strode a little closer. He waved goodbye to Ted, who was pulling on his coat, apparently heading home to his girlfriend. JJ picked up a small creamcake and ate it, then glanced at Drake, smiling as he saw the man quickly look away. Drake was leaning against the wall, practically huddling the cell phone to appear concentrated on the phone call, but he was nodding too often, the look on his face was too rigid. His thoughts were somewhere else, and that was where JJ intended to keep them.  
  
Drake didn't see him approach, he was too busy attempting to look busy. He was frowning fiercely. "Okay. Yeah. Okay," he mumbled to the phone, then jumped a little when he noticed JJ standing next to him. Without giving him time to think, JJ took the cell phone from his hand and clicked it off.  
  
Drake jumped a little. "JJ? What the hell're you-- "  
  
When his partner turned around to face him, JJ felt the force of Drake's full attention. It had really been way too long, JJ figured; why else would Drake of all people have this kind of an impact on him? He shivered a little, but covered it by leaning forward and slipping the phone into the back pocket of Drake's jeans. "You weren't listening to it, anyway."  
  
Drake glanced nervously over his shoulder. "JJ... What...?"  
  
JJ didn't even have to look; he knew no-one was even remotely interested in them. In any case, they were standing in the shadows; most of the light was coming from the crack of the bathroom door behind them. Drake looked down at him, the shadows making his features appear sharp. His frown was fading away to make room for a look of amazed comprehension. He was starting to get the idea, JJ thought as he tentatively ran his fingers up Drake's chest. He kept his touch light and teasing, testing the waters.  
  
Drake froze; JJ could feel him take a sharp breath and hold it. But he wasn't backing away, not even trying to get away. Taking that as a good sign, JJ let his right hand crawl its way behind Drake's neck. JJ leaned closer, and when Drake didn't resist, even closer still. He traced the paths his fingers had drawn with his eyes, finally looking up at Drake's face. Drake's eyes were half-closed but very alert; he looked like he was preparing to protest, but lingered, waiting for what JJ had to say.   
  
JJ took all he could out of those familiar features. Funny, he had never really *looked* at Drake, not this close, anyway. Drake had chiseled features, and his bad habit of shaving sloppily and constantly running his hand through his hair which left it messy gave him a rugged demeanor. Still, there was softness that JJ couldn't help thinking was endearing. Yes, some kind of warmth, some kind of glow... And when Drake met his gaze, and those gray, hopeful eyes were on him, those eyes that had always been there to assure him that it was going to be okay, JJ couldn't help himself anymore. He pulled Drake down and kissed him fiercely, hungry for the warmth he sensed from the other man.  
  
For a couple of seconds, it was awkward. JJ had to stand on his toes to reach Drake's mouth and he felt conscious about what he was doing, but before he could get any second thoughts, Drake suddenly seemed to melt against him. He tilted his head a little and leaned down, and JJ forgot all about his initial discomfort. The fit was suddenly made perfect. Eagerly, he opened his mouth against Drake's and licked his lower lip, prying for entrance. Drake complied so readily it made JJ slightly heady and he took a firmer hold of the back of Drake's head as he dove into the kiss. Drake had raised one hand to JJ's upper back, closing JJ into a loose embrace, but he didn't try to pull JJ closer. Drake simply held him firmly in place, *as if to tell me I won't be getting away that easily,* JJ briefly thought, pulling away to catch his breath. He didn't know whether he smelled the cigarette smoke in Drake's clothes or tasted it in his kiss. Two words burned in his mind.   
  
*Warmer.* He let his hands take detours along Drake's upper body and arms, loving the feeling of worn cotton under his fingers, and the warmth of skin that radiated through it.  
  
*Closer...* This just wouldn't do; Drake kept them apart, so slightly it was teasing, and JJ would have none of it. *He* was doing the teasing here, thank-you-very-much. Grinning at the thought, he snaked his arms round Drake and pressed himself against his partner as he captured his lips for another kiss.  
  
It was soft and a little vague, almost like Drake was somewhere else entirely. JJ pulled away, lingering close so that his lips almost touched Drake's. "Hey," he managed, a breathy whisper. Drake's breath was hot and sweet on his mouth. JJ's suit pants felt like they had been tailored for women and he could bet his favorite pair of leather loafers that Drake wasn't doing any better in his much less loose blue jeans. They might've been the best choice for showing off that cute ass of his, but Jesus, they must be damn uncomfortable right now. JJ felt a little overwhelmed when the thought sank in. It was dawning to him as he looked at Drake now that something had undeniably, irrevocably changed. Drake was rapidly turning from the nice guy from work to the hot guy he badly wanted to fuck.  
  
Drake dropped the hand that he had wrapped around JJ's shoulders and would've taken a step away if JJ hadn't still been holding him stubbornly in place. His lips silently formed a few words before he finally said under his breath, "JJ... I-- this's a... bad idea." His voice wavered a little; Drake's voice, which never wavered during the line of work. He was not convincing in the slightest.  
  
JJ traced Drake's jaw line with his lips, nipping here and there, enjoying the pricking sensation of his stubble. Drake was trying to turn his head away, but JJ took the opportunity to kiss under his chin, along his jawbone, and his exposed throat, where he lingered a bit. For a second, JJ thought of wild animals and how showing your neck to your partner was a sign of consent. It couldn't have been that different for humans. Drake wasn't fooling anyone. JJ knew a hard-on when it crawled up his leg. And he was sure Drake knew, too, even though he was making his damnest to shift his hips away from JJ's.  
  
The sound of high heels clacking on the floor made JJ suddenly stop. Someone was approaching. Shit, he had completely forgotten where they were. He glanced over Drake's shoulder and saw a young woman in a black dress coming their way. He reluctantly let his arms drop and put a little space between him and Drake.  
  
"Oh, fuck," Drake said in that low voice JJ suspected was a sign of him being embarrassed or helpless. It worked fine for a bedroom voice, too. At least it seemed to speak the same language as JJ's cock. Fuck? Oh, yes please.  
  
They both turned a little away from the woman when she walked past, as if fearing that she'd identify them. They watched as she followed the turning hallway and went into the bathroom at the end of it. There was another door next to it - some kind of a closet, JJ guessed. Well, that would do. He started pulling Drake towards it, determined not to let any more obstacles to come to his way.  
  
To JJ's surprise and delight, Drake seemed to drop all half-assed attempts at resisting. He leaned in and kissed JJ roughly, demandingly. When he pulled away for air, he was short of breath and his eyes looked oddly glazed over, as if he was mesmerized. JJ felt a nice swelling in his ego - and in his pants - when he thought that *he* might've done that to Drake. Hurriedly, he flung the door open and shoved Drake inside, making at least two mops fall down, the noise muffled by the cramped space of what apparently was a broom closet. JJ pulled the door shut with his foot and pinned Drake against the wall, kissing him like there was no tomorrow as he ran his hands down Drake's sides, tugging his shirt from his pants. He resisted the temptation to feel up Drake's ass; in a fleeting moment of clear thinking, he realized it would most likely make Drake uncomfortable. Sex with straight men was such a bother. Then he came to think that they were both 'closeted' at the moment and giggled into Drake's mouth. Drake echoed it with a little chuckle. Drake had always seemed to take real joy out of making him laugh.  
  
Since the backside was off-limits, JJ moved his hands from Drake's waist to the button and zipper of his blue jeans - although he couldn't by any stretch of imagination see that they were blue at the moment, since it was very dark in the closet. He slid his fingers teasingly along the bulge he found there, and Drake gasped, burying his fingers into JJ's shirt. Apparently he wasn't the vocal type, so JJ had to act on instinct. He opened the button and then attacked Drake's throat, nipping, sucking and licking, as he slipped his hands under Drake's shirt so that he could feel his skin. God, he was so warm and taut under his fingers... Drake had a bit of a belly, but he was certainly in good shape. JJ wished he could pull the shirt all the way off to feel up Drake's strong arms, since he had wanted to do so for ages, but decided that it wasn't an option right now.  
  
Drake groaned, deep in his throat. JJ could see the movement as Drake abruptly raised his right hand to take hold of something, most likely a shelf, sending some more things crashing to the floor. He buried his left hand into JJ's hair, pushing his head downwards. Ah hah. JJ caught on immediately, leaving Drake's throat and letting his lips graze their way down Drake's chest and stomach as he kneeled down, unzipping Drake's jeans and pushing them down in the process. His heart was pounding in his chest. There was something exciting about not being able to see what he was getting at. It sharpened the sensations as he felt his way inside Drake's underwear - *briefs*, he noticed absent-mindedly, *I should've known* - before pulling them out of his way and focusing on the real treat.  
  
He stroked down Drake's cock's length tentatively, letting his fingers make up for the lack of vision. *Nice and thick,* JJ thought appreciatively, *I wouldn't mind getting to know you better.* He continued stroking the cock lazily up and down with his hand as he expertly took one of Drake's balls into his mouth. That got some kind of sound out of Drake at last as he uttered, "Oh shit!" and JJ could feel a shudder go through him. Encouraged, JJ darted his tongue behind Drake's balls, a magic spot he could always bet on.  
  
Drake twitched abruptly, and his breathy moan was shocked, not in the way JJ had intended. Wrong move. JJ had fallen to his old sin: going at it too fast. JJ distracted both his battered ego and Drake by slipping the crown of Drake's cock into his mouth and sucking firmly. God, it *was* a nice cock, maybe not very long but that was just the same; he wouldn't be able to suck it comfortably if it was any longer. Drake's panting was loud in the cramped space of the broom closet, and it took JJ a moment to realize that his heart was pounding in his ears, matching the heated pounding of blood he felt in his cock. He hastily unzipped his pants to relieve some of the pressure. His cock sprang up, pleading for attention, but JJ had none left to give it when he started sucking Drake in earnest, taking the cock all the way in. JJ wanted to go slow, to take all out of the opportunity he doubted would ever come again, but couldn't stop himself. It didn't help that Drake was moving his hips now, his fingers apparently trying to burrow through JJ's skull.  
  
JJ fingered Drake's balls, sensing that Drake was close. He braced himself and swallowed when Drake came, letting out a shaky gasp, practically throwing himself against the wall behind him. JJ sat back on the floor, his right hand finding his aching cock. He kicked at the door weakly in order to let enough light in to see Drake. The look on Drake's face made JJ shudder all over. It didn't take JJ many strokes to kiss the sky himself, and he let the wave wash him away when it hit him. Shit, it had been too long since he had last sucked cock.  
  
The sharp sound of his cell phone ringing made JJ return back to planet Earth in a second. He jumped a little, and saw Drake, who had bonelessly fallen down to sit on the floor, do the same. JJ went through his pockets. Where the hell was that diabolical thing? He was panting, had stars dancing in his eyes and the taste of Drake's come in his mouth and was so not in the mood for some dusty pathologist who wanted to tell him random details about a dead corpse.   
  
"Yes?" he answered the phone breathlessly, after finally fishing it out of his pocket.  
  
"Hello, this is Officer Brady from the Heaven's Mercy Hospital. Your partner said we should call if there were any changes in Ms. Borland's condition, and..."  
  
"For you," JJ told plaintively to Drake, who blinked dumbly when JJ put the cell phone into his hand. JJ got up on his somewhat unsure feet, zipped up his pants and pushed himself out of the closet in a mad need to get *away*. He wasn't claustrophobic, not in particular, but the rush of fresh air outside the small closet was nectar to his lungs. Funny how you never noticed the scent of sex before you left the room.  
  
He stumbled his way to the hall, grabbed his coat and scarf and left the apartment, not stopping to notice if anyone had seen him leave. Once he was standing outside in the cold night air, he remembered that he had had too many drinks to drive. He reached out for his cell phone to call a cab, but then he realized he had left it to Drake. JJ ran his hand through his hair and grimaced, feeling more than slightly out of his mind. He wiped at the side of his mouth where a drop of Drake's come still remained and closed his eyes as the memory of Drake's intense gaze filled him and seemed to warm him through and through.  
  
What the hell had gotten into him?  
  
What the hell had possessed him to do something like that... and why had something that stupid had to feel so damn *good*? 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
  
If it was possible to feel exhausted and hyperactive at the same time, Drake was feeling it. His body screamed for sleep and his limbs felt like they weighed a ton each, with an additional weight located in his poor head. But at the same time, he couldn't seem to sit still. And he was only on his second cup of coffee. Some bone-shaking paranoia, born from restless sleep and strange dreams, had settled on his mind, and he couldn't shake it.  
  
"How many damn bottles of vodka were in that punch?" he asked in a low murmur.  
  
He hadn't expected an answer, but Dee gave him one in the form of a grin.  
  
"Yeah," Drake muttered and scratched his hair. God, he needed a shower.  
  
Dee took his cup of coffee and sat down on the opposite side of the small kitchen table. "About time you woke up. Your cell phone's been ringing all morning. I almost threw it out of the window an hour ago. Can't believe you have some cutesy ring tone on it."  
  
"It's not mine, it's JJ's," Drake said. He closed his left eye as a ray of sunlight peeked from between the drawn curtains and seemed to burn into his poor head. He wished he didn't have to explain any further. The memory of how he had ended up with JJ's cell phone was pretty clear in his head, but it got mangled when he tried to think closely about it. And he couldn't seem to help trying. Drake swallowed and nervously tapped his finger on the table.  
  
"What are you doing with his cell phone?" Dee asked, but in an amused, rhetorical tone. "There's more coffee if you want it."  
  
"Yeah, thanks."  
  
The surrealism of the moment hit Drake. Here he was, sitting in Dee and Ryou's kitchen which looked clean and alien in the morning light, opposite of Dee, who seemed as perky as ever. Add a suit and he'd be ready for a business meeting. Drake felt impossibly dirty. He wished he could go back to sleep, but then soundly decided against it.  
  
He rarely dreamed - most of the time he was so exhausted when he hit the sack that all he saw was black. Or he snoozed in front of the TV, and upon waking wasn't sure which part had been late-night television and which he had dreamed. But last night he had a clutter of chaotic, vivid dreams, all of which had included his partner. Drake felt like a teenager, full of hormones and his body seeming to belong to someone else. This wasn't happening. He might've lost his sanity for a moment but he was *straight*, dammit. JJ just happened to know what to do to get to him, to make him...  
  
He grimaced. Maybe he was just reading too much into it. Yes, better to forget all about JJ blowing him in the broom closet and focus on something… easier.  
  
"I'm sorry, Drake."  
  
Drake looked up when he heard Dee's voice, surprised.  
  
"Hell, I admit it, Ryou was right. I shouldn't have invited her, right?" Dee made a face and scratched his head. "Sorry, man. I just realized… it was a shitty thing to do, to make you go through that."  
  
Oh. Jill. Jesus, he hadn't even thought about her. JJ had been far too much for his poor mind to take. Drake looked past Dee, fully expecting to see the words "YOU ARE FLAMING GAY" written in huge pink letters on the kitchen cupboard doors.  
  
"No, no. It's okay," he muttered, somewhat horrified. "We're disagreeing to agree, or something. She's… I'm fine."  
  
Dee snickered and got up to pour more coffee for himself and Drake. "That's agreeing to disagree, and c'mon, you're all shaken. I can tell."  
  
"I drank about half of the friggin' punch," Drake said quickly. Alcohol was a marvelous scapegoat. God knew it was the most common excuse the suspects he questioned used.  
  
"Yeah, but… Oh, come on, Drake, stop being so fucking vague. You keep taking punches and never say a word. Why didn't you just tell me that you didn't want to see her? I'm meeting her and Barry next week anyway, it would've been okay. It's like you're masochistic or something."  
  
Drake's head was pounding fiercely. "Just forget it, it's - it's not Jill, Dee. I'm just - forget it, okay?"  
  
Dee's eyebrows shot up. "Not Jill, huh? Then why the hell do you have this lovelorn look all over your face?"  
  
Ryou appeared in the doorway wearing Dee's boxers, drying his hair. "The shower's free, Drake."  
  
Drake scrambled onto his feet. "Thanks. I'll just take a quick shower and be gone."  
  
"No hurry." Ryou smiled and went over to put some bread in the toaster.  
  
Drake was just about to leave the room when Dee's voice stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"I have to go to the station to pick up some forms later; you want me to take that cell phone to JJ on the way? I bet he wants it back as soon as possible."  
  
Drake turned around stiffly. Shit. Oh shit. Dee was looking at him thoughtfully. How the HELL did Dee know? Or did he? Was Drake just getting fucking paranoid when it came to his workmates?  
  
"No," Drake said. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded forced. "That's okay. I'll take it."  
  
Dee nodded nonchalantly. "Good."  
  
Ryou looked from Dee to Drake, a question hanging in the air. Drake escaped to the shower and left the answering to Dee.  
  
***  
  
Not surprisingly, Drake didn't get around to bringing the cell phone back to JJ. He spent the whole day snoozing his hangover away and watching TV, keeping his brain activity to a minimum.   
  
When his alarm clock woke him up in the morning, he found that all of Sunday had turned into gray, indistinguishable haze in his mind. He groaned and decided that he needed a few hours more sleep before he was ready to face the inevitable meeting with the rabid grizzly bear that was the chief.  
  
It was nearing lunchtime when he finally arrived at the station. He was doing his best to focus on the case, knowing full well that he and JJ had been a little sloppy so far, and Chief wouldn't thank them for that - let alone Drake's own conscience. He wasn't good at ignoring things that went against his morals.  
  
*Concentrate, Drake,* he told himself, striving for his father's strict tone. *There's some sicko roaming the streets, killing whoever he feels is in the right spot at the right time. This is no time to be sloppy.*  
  
Not surprisingly, JJ was waiting for him at the door of their office, tapping his foot. Drake felt his stomach turn strangely when he realized JJ was wearing the same clothes he had worn at the party. What the hell was he supposed to say in this situation?  
  
He swallowed and did his best to sound normal. "Hi, I know, I'm late. Is the chief spitting fire yet?"  
  
JJ's gaze was sharp, but not threatening. "No, actually, the Olsen case has kept him busy this morning. But he did want to know where you were, and I would've liked to know, as well. Harris was just here with the lab results and you know I hate poring over those by myself."  
  
"Sorry." Drake felt JJ's eyes burning into his back as he entered the office and shrugged off his coat. He couldn't believe how unnerving it was, and not in a completely bad way, either. Instantly, memories of Saturday night flooded his mind. He found himself recalling the feel of JJ's fingers dancing up his chest, the taste of cakes and punch and JJ mixing in his mouth, the warmth of JJ's body when it was pressed against him.   
  
*No,* he thought desperately, *don't go there, Parker. This is not the place or the time; you've got to finish a late report to Chief. Yes, think about Chief. Chief in his worst Monday morning mood.*  
  
JJ walked into the office after him and closed the door. "The knife is going to be our key piece of evidence, no doubt about it."  
  
"Fingerprints?" Drake asked, hopefully. He wanted nothing more than to get this case closed quickly.  
  
"Now, don't get too carried away." JJ winked cheerfully and stretched his arms.   
  
Why that little... Drake was glad he was sitting at his desk. He shifted uncomfortably and summoned up more mental images of the chief, his most regular way of fighting down arousal.  
  
"The forensics team did find traces of blood on the edge, though," JJ continued. "The blood type didn't match any of the victims', so they figured that our perp might've accidentally cut himself when he stumbled and dropped the knife. Maybe the small cut was the reason he dropped it."  
  
"What do we have about the blood, then?" Drake picked up one of the files and quickly went through the detailed report it contained. Forensics reports: nothing as asexual in the world. "They appear to have run the information through CODIS."  
  
"The blood type's rare, at least." JJ finally sat down, scratching his jaw. "Of course, not all the lab tests are done yet. But I think we should run his info through international records. Illegal Russian bullets, mysterious expensive cars… this guy has quite a backing. He seems too showy and reckless to be any of the locals."  
  
"You already put that into the report?" Drake asked and glanced at JJ. Now that they were at their own desks, on opposite sides of the room, and discussed the case as usual, he felt a little calmer, more professional.  
  
JJ smiled sweetly at him. "Of course not. That's your job."  
  
Drake didn't feel like complaining. "Fine. Anything else?"  
  
"You could get me a cup of coffee." JJ made a big show of focusing on the file in front of him, but Drake could tell he was laughing inwardly.  
  
"I meant about the Forensic report," Drake said.  
  
"Hm? What?" JJ looked up, blinking.  
  
Drake sighed and got up. "Never mind."   
  
He headed to the first floor to fetch the coffee. JJ was plotting something; he knew that cunning look. Or then JJ was just laughing at him behind his back, but honestly, Drake couldn't think of JJ as that malevolent. JJ, JJ, JJ. Was it just him, or was he going in circles? Drake gave himself a mental kick. He was making a complete ass of himself and they had work to do.  
  
Apparently smelling blood, Chief marched into their office just when Drake had thrown his feet onto the desk and was about to start sipping his coffee. The chief was red in the face from running and he had a big pile of files under his arm.   
  
"Parker, Addams, what the hell are you two doing?" he started in an irritated growl.  
  
JJ sat up straight. "Uh, yes. We were just putting the information together for the meeting, sir."  
  
Chief glared at them both. "Haven't you had four damn hours to do that? What am I running here, a sloth zoo? Get your asses up and into my office, NOW!"  
  
Drake quickly threw a few papers - most likely the wrong ones - into a file. He hoped JJ had his papers in better order as they hurried after Chief, who huffed and muttered under his breath about him being the only one who ever worked in this goddamn squad.  
  
When they reached the office, the chief sat down with a relieved sigh and slammed the files on his huge desk. Drake and JJ found chairs for themselves and Drake tried to peek over at JJ's papers. JJ gave him an annoyed glance, which was unusually gruff of him and made Drake frown. What had he done now?  
  
"So, you can thank your lucky stars that your whiny colleagues can't seem to solve a simple case without getting someone to threaten to sue them. Let's start from you, Drake; where the hell were you this morning?"  
  
"Uh, I was having a chat with the eyewitness, the perp's last victim who survived. Miss… Tandi Borland; she's in the hospital but not with very heavy injuries."  
  
Chief squinted and glared at Drake. "Oh? I wonder why your partner had no idea about that little chat?"  
  
JJ looked pointedly at Drake, who felt this was a two-against-one situation. "Yes, well, that's…" Drake trailed off, wondering why JJ didn't follow up with some kind of an explanation. They were usually so good at the synchronized Chief-bluffing routine. But JJ just frowned and twiddled with his cufflinks, apparently unable to think of anything.  
  
The chief leaned back and sighed. "Oh, never mind, you dimwits, I can see this is exceeding your mental capacity. Just tell me what you've got so far."  
  
***  
  
After forty excruciating minutes, Drake and JJ headed over to the basement floor to get their car. They had to *really* question Ms. Borland. Drake had a hunch she might know something. When they came to the door that led to the garage, they both reached to open it at the same time. They looked at each other, their faces only a few inches apart, and Drake could see his own surprise mirrored in JJ's expression. What the hell was going on? They never did that. They had been partners for seven years; they could read each other. Unless they didn't want to, for some reason. Drake pushed the door open, a little more forcibly than was needed. He had to admit that he had been avoiding looking at JJ. Was it showing?  
  
Nothing was said about the incident, or about anything else, during the drive to the hospital, although Drake could tell JJ was unusually thoughtful, too. When they stopped at traffic lights, Drake leaned against the steering wheel and looked at JJ. His partner was staring out of the window, frowning and chewing on a finger nail. JJ only frowned when he was honestly worried. A frown simply didn't suit his usual sunny face; it made him look alien. Drake always felt bad when JJ was miserable, and this was not an exception. His irritation at JJ faded away as raw sympathy set in. He thought of reaching out to ruffle JJ's hair a bit, to snap him out of it, but felt oddly reluctant. Familiar body language seemed to have taken a completely new twist between them. He wasn't sure if he wanted to test the new boundaries.  
  
"The light's green," JJ said without looking at him.  
  
Drake sighed and turned his attention back to the road. "Oh."  
  
The Heaven's Mercy Hospital was relatively quiet. They took the elevator to the third floor, still in silence, and walked along the long, sterile hallway.  
  
There was a young man sitting on a chair next to the door of Tandi Borland's room. He was slumped over so that his long, dirty black hair completely hid his face. There was something familiar about his shoddy leather jacket, and it only took Drake a few seconds to remember him. You never really forget the first guys you arrest, do you?  
  
He walked over and sat on the chair next to the man - what was his name? Sanchez? Santos? Oh, what the hell. Maybe his memory was as good as Drake's. "Shakey, imagine meeting you here. Not intending to walk out with some cancer patient's pills in your shoes, are you?"  
  
The man looked up at the sound of his voice, and Drake saw recognition in his eyes. "Whatta hell?"  
  
"Who is this guy, senpai?" JJ asked.  
  
"Shakey and I are old pals from the time I was in the beat. He and his little buddies halfway cleaned out a pharmacy once, ain't that right, Shakey?"  
  
"The name's Santos, and I dun know who th' fuck you are, man," the man said in a quiet, nervous voice.  
  
Drake would've expected no less from someone who had apparently been able to walk out of it last time. If Shakey was caught doing something now, on top of that last pharmacy number, he would be doing a whole shitload of time. Unfortunately, carefulness had never really been one of Shakey's strong points. Drake had taken this guy in at least three times. "Here to see Tandi? Bet you're a little upset about what happened to her, right? Wouldn't happen to be any of your buddies who did that to her?"  
  
"I ain't sayin' nothin'-- "  
  
"Of course you're not," JJ put in, "because if you sing, you'll get the same as Tandi, right? But let's talk speculatively, here. What if we happen to have something on your friends, and are only short a few names? The names *they know* you could easily provide us… see where I'm getting with this?"  
  
True to his nickname, the young man was shaking like a leaf, now. "I - I dun know, man, I--"  
  
Drake was pleased to see JJ had caught on so quickly. Maybe their poor teamwork that morning was improving. "We could take you down to the station, ask you the same things again… but you see, Shakey, it wouldn't make any difference whether you told us what we wanted to know or not. What matters is that it'd look a whole lot like you'd been caught in the act. It'd look like you would have no choice but to sing."  
  
Shakey looked around, sweating. "No, man, don't take me down there; they'd fuckin' kill me, man…"  
  
"Who's cut up Tandi? And why?" JJ asked, now standing on Shakey's other side, watching him attentively.  
  
Shakey ran his long fingers through his hair, desperation in his manner and in his voice. "I dun know who done it, man, I swear I don't know nothing… It's bad shit… It's them big shots, I dun wanna know nothing 'bout that…"  
  
"Big shots?" Drake asked anxiously. They were getting somewhere.  
  
"Higher up the food chain, huh?" JJ asked almost at the same time.  
  
Shakey nodded frantically. "Yeah. It's bad. Got everyone on their fuckin' toes… Something big's goin' on. Somethin' bad… Our people get done, just like fuckin' that…"  
  
Drake and JJ glanced at each other. "So who's pissed off?" Drake asked.  
  
"Toldja it's the big guys… From the east side, the ones who call the shots, they're fuckin' pissed, man. Everyone's just keepin' outta the way, y'know?"  
  
Bingo. So this *had* something to do with gang activities, after all. Drake tried the direct approach. "So then you know what gang we're talking about?"  
  
Shakey jumped. "N-no, I… People tell me it's those Red Robs tryin' to get even, but I dun fuckin' know. Listen, I dun wanna get involved, okay? Okay?"  
  
Red Robs? What the hell was that? Drake had never heard of a gang by that name, and the name sounded odd, anyway. Drake looked at Shakey searchingly. Nope, he didn't think the man was lying. After all, it was in his best interest to tell them everything he knew. The streets couldn't have been very safe with a reckless and powerful gang on the war path.  
  
JJ leaned closer to Shakey, his interest piqued. "Get even for what?"  
  
"Fuck, y'know what it's like. Dun cross m' hood, I dun cross yours. An' they don't call 'em East Hounds for nothin'."  
  
"Get even for *what*, Shakey?" JJ pushed.  
  
"I dun know! I tell ya, I know nothing 'bout that, man." Shakey jumped to his feet and looked nervously from JJ to Drake. "I hafta go now, man, I swear that's all I know."  
  
Drake nodded to JJ, then muttered, "All right, get lost," to Shakey, who scrambled noisily to the elevator and disappeared through the doors.  
  
JJ looked after the man, his hands on his hips. "You think he was telling the truth?"  
  
Drake went to the door to Borland's room. "I don't know why he wouldn't have. And anyway, we can confirm it with Tandi, right?"  
  
JJ nodded, and followed him inside.  
  
***  
  
The visit earned them two important facts. One, Shakey had apparently been correct, for Tandi confirmed his words. Two, she was able to tell what Shakey had only vaguely referred to: what had started the disruption with the gang known by the weird name Red Robs. Judging by the scale of the events and the fact that neither he or JJ had ever heard of it, Drake guessed that it was more like a collective name for a number of smaller gangs that hailed from the east side, some kind of a secret pact. That fit their profile of the murderer being rich and resourceful, if not extravagant. Guys that influential would have no problem helping their underlings to disappear. So much for the theory of one rich bastard who liked the attention.  
  
But the similarity of the careful cutting patterns and the witness statements still spoke of only one man actually committing all the murders. Could it be that a gang had simply put one man to the task? And what task was that? According to Tandi, one of the Red Robs' leading men, Phil "Lazy Eye" Lance, had been murdered during a border skirmish. The death had set the Red Robs' movers and shakers' blood boiling, and worried everyone else. But still, a series of gruesome cuttings like this seemed too planned for simple revenge. Not to mention that none of the victims were known to have any connections to gang activities.  
  
It was a puzzle, all right, but now they at least had some clues to go with that piece of evidence.  
  
When they were walking back to the car, JJ suddenly broke into a grin and asked, "So why did you call that guy 'Shakey', senpai?"  
  
Drake was glad to see that JJ looked more like his usual happy-go-lucky self. Well, he was feeling a little better himself; he felt like he had accomplished something. And the memory of how "Shakey" Santos got his name brought a smile to his lips. "Oh, that takes me back. When I was on the beat, we used to cruise around this grungy mall a lot. Y'know, one of those places that are robbed clean by high school kids every Saturday."  
  
JJ nodded, still smiling. "I know the type. Give me the keys, senpai, I'm driving."  
  
Drake frowned a bit, but then tossed the keys over the car hood to JJ. Once they had both gotten into the car, he continued. "So, anyway. Shakey and his friends, a small gang of local spot-faced dopeheads, had been caught for shoplifting and possession of drugs numerous times. Two of them were in the Juvie Hall when the rest of the gang got the marvelous idea of robbing a drugstore." Drake chuckled at the memory.  
  
"I take it their plan wasn't successful."  
  
"Oh yeah, it was. They walked right past our noses with a handful of pills on each punk. And we knew they had sticky fingers and that painkillers were robbed from the store, but we couldn't do a damn thing. Sometimes we'd see them playing with the containers, but we couldn't do much when the pills themselves were nowhere to be seen. We couldn't figure out *where* they were keeping them when they left the store, because we searched 'em and found nothing."   
  
Drake glanced at JJ and found him listening eagerly, amused curiosity radiating from him. Pleased, Drake went on. "So, the chief put two cops to hang around the store entrance to watch for them. When it was my turn to stand there and look stupid, Shakey was in the store with two of his pals. They walked out of the store, right under our noses, and suddenly Shakey starts shaking his foot, y'know, as if he's got a rock in his shoe or something. Except that it wasn't a rock. We looked on as small white pills started dropping on the sidewalk."  
  
JJ giggled. "Oh, you're kidding!"  
  
"You know those huge Airwalkers the kids wear. Apparently they were big enough to hide the pills in. They'd just deftly drop the pills from their hands into their sneakers. But Shakey stepped on them badly..." Drake shook his head, grinning. "And started spreading those pills around like a friggin' salt shaker. äMan, we got laughs out of that for weeks."  
  
Drake looked out of the window. The traffic wasn't bad that day. They were only a block away from the station now.  
  
"It's kind of nice to hear stories from the time you were on the beat, senpai," JJ said wistfully, bringing Drake's attention back to him. "You don't usually share that kind of stuff with the rest of the class."  
  
"Well, most of the class was there to witness it," Drake said. He thought about Dee and added in his mind, *When they weren't AWOL, that is.*  
  
"I wasn't." JJ sounded almost sad.  
  
Drake shrugged awkwardly. "Hell, it's nothing earth-shattering. My life on the whole's pretty boring. So if there are a couple of things you don't know about me, it shouldn't make a difference."  
  
He suddenly felt JJ's eyes burning right into him and involuntarily shuddered. His partner's voice was playful when he drawled, "I think there are some things about you, senpai, that you don't even know yourself."  
  
Panic and irritation surged up, and Drake barked, "Whaddya mean?"  
  
*Dear God, don't EVER let him look at me like that again or I'll...*  
  
JJ focused his eyes back on the road, smiling a little hesitantly. "Oh, c'mon, senpai. We've been dancing round this all day. You know what I'm talking about."  
  
Of *course* Drake knew what he was talking about. He wished he didn't, but there was no getting out of it. This wasn't something that would just pass. Drake's first impulse was to simply tell JJ to keep his hands out of Drake's pants, no matter the reason they had wandered there. He valued JJ far too much as a partner and a friend to find the task easy, however. JJ was a good kid; no, a good man to work with. Drake had spent seven years trying to cheer JJ up after Dee's continual rebukes, and he had seen enough to never want to be the one to cause such anguish to JJ. The poor kid, in love with Dee - who walked into walls whenever Ryou happened to walk by. Drake could relate, and knew there was nothing to be said about such blind infatuation after a certain point.  
  
It would've been complicated enough even without a second impulse that kept telling him that there was also a chance here that he shouldn't miss. That impulse kept pulling up hazy, heated memories of Saturday night and shoving them in Drake's face when he least expected it, most often when JJ looked at him and smiled wistfully--  
  
Actually, exactly like he was smiling now.  
  
"You're a tease, you know that?"  
  
JJ's smile didn't waver. "Yes, senpai."  
  
Oh for the sake of all that was holy, Drake couldn't bear it anymore. He had to get this over with somehow. "Look, what's with this flirting thing you're doing? Or *more*, actually. Hell, I don't know what I should call this, this thing - you know damn well I'm not gay, so what the - why the hell are you -"  
  
JJ let Drake's voice die out without replying, which was surprising, considering that he was usually prone to talking over others. He pulled over in the station's parking lot and then turned to Drake. He had the weirdest look on his face, a very intense look that bordered on sadness. The car seemed to shrink around them, trapping Drake to his seat. His heart was hammering. He didn't know if he was mad at JJ for being so calm and collected in this crazy situation or if he just wanted to throw him down on the seat and kiss his mouth shut. Neither of the options made any sense.  
  
"Drake, listen." JJ's voice was serious and a little edgy. "I wouldn't have said anything, but I think we *have* to talk this through. It's affecting our work. I *know* this must be awkward for you, but..." He paused and looked away, sighing a little. "Work with me here, okay?"  
  
"I don't know. Is there something to talk about?" Drake muttered stiffly, staring at the wall ahead and trying his damnedest not to think about the feel of JJ's body pressed against him.  
  
"Oh, please," JJ said, and Drake couldn't really blame him for sounding exasperated. "Your cock down my throat? Hello?"  
  
"Jesus, JJ!" Drake said, louder than he had intended, turning abruptly to stare at JJ. "Do I have to put on a tee-shirt that says, 'Respect my heterosexuality'? Just what the hell were you - stop *giggling*, dammit!" He was blushing and felt like a prude.  
  
"Sorry!" JJ managed. He leaned back on his seat, his whole body shaking with laughter.  
  
It felt good to see JJ laugh, and Drake calmed down a little. He realized it *always* felt good when JJ was happy; it somehow radiated from him and warmed Drake inside. "You just like getting at me, don't you," he said, in a hushed tone, and couldn't understand why the usual warm rush now included curling toes.  
  
JJ's eyes were shiny and his laughter was there in their blue depths. "Yeah. I guess that's one way of putting it." His voice was quieter than normal, too, deeper and somehow...   
  
Before completing the thought, Drake leaned over, braced his hand on the back of JJ's seat, threw all good sense out of the window and pressed his mouth to JJ's. He had expected it to be something shocking, something to shake them both back to reality, but JJ just raised one hand to hold Drake's head in place and returned the kiss, like it was nothing new. Like it was something they had always done. And despite the flood of new details, Drake slowly started to feel the same. Hadn't he always been aware of these things during the nearly eight years JJ had been there by his side, acknowledged them as he acknowledged JJ's working methods, the way he held a gun, the way he connected the dots in his mind and looked through forensic reports? Hadn't he somehow always known that JJ's fingers were strong and precise and that his eyes were intoxicating?   
  
Conscious thought drifted away as he deepened the kiss and found that JJ's lips were - not soft, no, but pliant, and opened easily. Drake had expected it to be *him* kissing *JJ*, but to his surprise, he found himself having to fight for it. JJ's hand grabbed at his hair and the front of his shirt, full of frantic hunger, echoes of Drake's own. It was a new experience - women he kissed didn't tend to respond with that kind of raw need - but not unpleasant, especially since JJ obviously knew what he was doing. Drake had a vague feeling that he had been here before when JJ nibbled at his lower lip. Only this time the half bottle of vodka had been replaced by a bewildering feeling that yes, this was *good*.  
  
He pulled back for breath, his fingers brushing JJ's temple. He had to swallow down the lump in his throat; he had never seen JJ look so happy. "Hey, uh," he said, gathering his wits, "we're... sort of in a public place."  
  
JJ nodded, but looked like he hadn't heard a thing Drake had just said.  
  
Drake ruffled his hair briskly, his favorite way of drawing JJ's attention back to matters at hand. It felt wonderful to do it now; he had feared he'd never get to do it again, and he had already made a habit of it. It helped him focus as much as it hopefully helped JJ. "Let's get inside."  
  
"Oh, right. The report. We'll be maimed." JJ's eyes regained their usual clarity and he quickly hopped out of the car, slamming the door shut.  
  
Drake took a moment before following. He had to count to five and think about Chief in a bikini before he felt decent enough to step out of the car. He had been utterly and completely drugged, there was no other explanation for it.  
  
JJ waited for him and closed the door for him, impatiently. "You think we'll be able to file Santos in as a real witness?"  
  
Shakey. Murder case. Work. He had to concentrate on something other than JJ's lips. "Um, I don't know. I think we could just put everything on Borland's shoulders. She knew about the same stuff as he, anyway."  
  
A sudden gust of wind chilled them both, made their coat ends flap. JJ hurried into the shelter of the station's walls. "I think it'll work. In fact, I think it'll work just perfectly. The report should be a breeze, really, except that of course--"  
  
"It was due this morning," Drake deftly completed the sentence.  
  
They smiled at each other. Something had clicked into place.  
  
***  
  
Miraculously, the work just seemed to get done, and they had the first report finished in half of the usual time. It was an easy day, at least for Drake and JJ; Dee complained loudly that he was dying of boredom and Ryou clarified that they were up to their elbows in useless assignments that any secretary or uniform could've done. Dee popped by to mock Drake and JJ's enthusiasm and they all gathered to drink coffee in the copy room while Ryou copied notices that said "Please Don't Smoke in the Cafeteria". Ted looked like he had gone through the worst hell Chief had to offer when he walked in, but he grinned nonetheless when Drake announced that the coffee was on him. After all, the dumbasses had managed to avoid being sued by a pissed-off teenager whom Marty had apparently handled a little roughly. It was a reason to party as much as anything.  
  
JJ looked at him over the plastic cup, eyes full of mischief. Drake eyed the file closet next to JJ, raising one eyebrow. They burst into chuckles; no one had dared to open the closet door ever since Marty had somehow shoved one more file inside, noticed that the tower was collapsing and quickly slammed the door shut.  
  
"What's so funny?" Dee demanded, making paper planes of the Please Don't Smoke notices. "If you've got a surprise for me, I hope it's a big ol' prostitution gig, because I'm wasting away."  
  
"Oh, shut up," Drake said, still chuckling under his breath. "When you have a case, you complain about the work load, and when you don't, you whine that you're bored to death."  
  
Ryou laughed. "Too true. Don't worry, Dee. Chief will make us work our asses off again, sooner than we'd ever want."  
  
"Hey, want my bitchy teenaged crack dealers, Dee?" Ted suggested. "You can have 'em. Just remember to be *nice* to the little bastards. We don't want some snot-nosed brat with a rich dad and well-paid lawyers bringing down the whole station." He made a face, obviously quoting Chief.   
  
Variants of "it'll be okay, Ted" were muttered throughout the room, and Ted didn't seem all too concerned as he emptied his cup. "Well, back to work, gentlemen. Or not working, as it is. Anyone up for a beer or two at Sal's after the shift?"  
  
"Yeah, okay," Ryou agreed, and Dee nodded too, unsurprisingly.  
  
"No, sorry," JJ said, and looked straight at Drake, who had been about to say yes.  
  
Drake swallowed and had to look away. It was a little too obvious how JJ kept staring at him all the time. "Oh yeah, we're, uh, working double tonight."  
  
"Double shifts?" Dee stared at him. "Is there no end to your unhealthy work enthusiasm?"  
  
JJ came to Drake's rescue. "It's not like we had any choice, Dee-senpai. Someone was just too lazy to show up for work this morning, and Chief happened to be in a lousy mood, so he slapped us the worst punishment."  
  
Bless JJ's quick brain.  
  
Ted patted Drake on the shoulder. "What can I say, man? It's your luck, all over."  
  
"Yeah," Drake said, clearing his throat, "a little sleeping in and look what the tanuki does. Downright unfair."  
  
"Sucks," JJ said emphatically, nodding in agreement.  
  
Drake almost sputtered the coffee all over his shirt and started to cough. He knew that was what JJ had intended with his comment, and he couldn't even be mad at him, not after he saw his adorable, apologetic grin.  
  
Everyone wandered off to their offices, and Drake and JJ worked quietly for a couple of more hours. No words seemed necessary; they were being efficient.  
  
When there was less than an hour left before the shift ended, Drake went to get more coffee - both because he felt he might need the caffeine and because he also needed some time to breathe. Being constantly under JJ's adoring eyes was heady stuff, but having to fight off an erection tended to wear him out. Janet was at the desk, and she offered him the papers, winking. Drake thanked her, bought the coffee and headed back to their office.  
  
When he opened the door, JJ was at the computer. He was frowning and obviously in deep thought. Drake put the coffee cup on the desk next to him, not breaking his concentration, and sat at his own desk.  
  
"Drake?" JJ muttered, his eyes still glued to the screen. "Take a look at this death certificate."  
  
Drake got up and came to look at the screen over JJ's head. There seemed to be a photo or two of a bloody, dead man, but JJ clicked them out of the way. "Who am I looking at, here?"  
  
"Phillip Lance. Y'know, Lazy Eye. The one who died in the border skirmish, and whom these Red Robs apparently held so dear they put up this whole show."  
  
"In other words, the guy from whom it all started." Drake quickly went through the lines. African-American, age 36, height five inches nine...  
  
"Holy *shit*," he blurted out. The guy had almost bled to death. From two precise cuts in his ankles. And then he had been shot in the head, execution-style.  
  
"His face is all bloody, as you can see," JJ said, clicking the two pictures back into view. "It's not clear from the photos, but it's because his teeth were dug out."  
  
"And his earlobes have been cut. Jesus." Drake leaned back. What did this mean? The first victim had been one of these "Red Robs"? Had they been looking at the case the wrong way round, and this was really some gang from the *west side* that tried to pay back to the Red Robs?  
  
JJ looked thoughtful. "It says in the report that they suspected the teeth and earlobes were cut for money. According to his friends, Phil had at least three golden teeth and loads of expensive earrings."  
  
The puzzle was gaining new pieces, even if it had been turned completely around.  
  
"The ankles? Have you found any explanation for those?" Drake asked.  
  
"No," JJ said, frowning again, "I didn't get that far. I was too busy thinking about what this means. Seems the ones we're after are not the Red Robs, after all."  
  
"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. We're going to have to start digging around the big gangs from the west side of the city." Drake ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck. This means we're almost back to square one."  
  
JJ looked at him, a half-smile dancing on his lips. "But it's the *right* square, at least."  
  
Drake couldn't help smiling a little in return to JJ's positivism. "At least that, true. And this also means we don't have to worry about a big collective of gangs; just one moderately wealthy gang armed with bucketfuls of spite."  
  
"Hey, that's right. Good. I think we can deal with just one puny gang." JJ grinned and stretched his arms. "Did you call Forensics about the knife?"  
  
"Uh, yeah... there was a problem." Drake made a face, remembering the extremely unhelpful doctor he had milked for information. "Some assistant screwed up and mixed the samples, and it'll take them a while to get everything back in order. They were talking about the end of the week, or the day after tomorrow, the earliest."  
  
"Ouch, that *is* a problem." JJ noticed his coffee and took a gulp. "Time's not on our side. The line is closing in. We have to stop the murderer before his work is done and he disappears from the face of the earth."  
  
"The guy's been skipping from place to place before," Drake pointed out, but he couldn't help the wave of fear that swept over him as he thought about the blue X over Bushwick.  
  
"True," JJ said. He gave Drake a searching glance. "Drake? Are you okay?"  
  
Drake nodded and stared past JJ, into empty space. He wondered why he felt this sense of duty for Jill, needed to keep her and Stevie safe. Especially Stevie. He was only a kid, but could just as well become the next yardstick on their killer's way. Only a kid. Like Matt.  
  
"You're worried about Jill." JJ put his warm hand on Drake's arm.  
  
Drake blinked a few times and straightened his back. He walked back to his own desk and sat down. He started absent-mindedly to clean up his papers. "It's okay," he muttered awkwardly.  
  
"You're not." JJ's voice was full of worry, although it was even.  
  
Drake sighed and leaned heavily on his elbow, staring at the papers on his desk. "Okay, yeah, I'm scared for her. It - it just feels like we're not doing enough. That the harder we work, the farther away the killer gets. Now we're thrown back to square one, and - I just - I just don't know."  
  
He didn't know what made him spill his guts at that moment, but it had an odd cleansing effect. Drake breathed in deep and closed his eyes for a second, only now realizing that he was about to fall asleep. When he opened them, he saw that JJ was sitting on his desk next to him, watching him quietly.  
  
"It's been a long day," Drake said, and managed to smile a little. JJ was radiating exactly the kind of warm assurance that he needed right now.  
  
"It has, at that." JJ nodded slowly.  
  
They were quiet for a moment, and the station seemed to hold its breath. The shift was ending; people were packing up and going home.  
  
Suddenly JJ sprang forward and planted a kiss on Drake's unexpecting mouth. "This is not the way I planned it," he said with a little breathy laugh, "but I think you really need some sleep, now."  
  
No, it wasn't the way Drake had planned it, either. But then again, practically nothing had gone as he had planned it that day, and it had still turned out okay.   
  
"You're right," he said apologetically. "I must've been drinking decaf by accident, or something, but I can't keep my eyes open."  
  
JJ shifted closer until he sat right in front of Drake on the desk, his legs dangling on each side of his partner. "It's okay, you know. You probably need some time to think, anyway."  
  
He did, he really did. Or at least some rest, to ease his overloaded brain. Was that the second time JJ had read his mind in the last few minutes?  
  
"Yeah," Drake managed, wondering why he felt so reluctant to go home despite being tired.  
  
"Right..." JJ shifted again, jumped down and went back to his desk. "I think I'll send an email to the lab and ask for the full autopsy report and the other papers. Maybe they will explain the ankles." He looked up and smiled reassuringly. "You go on home and get some shut-eye. I'll lock up when I'm done."  
  
Drake frowned at his own hesitation. JJ was talking sense, but... "No, I'll wait for you."  
  
JJ laughed a little. "That's nice of you, Drake, but you don't have to."  
  
"No, I... It's all right. I'm not that tired. Go on, send that email. It can't take that long." Drake sat down to wait.  
  
With a happy shrug, JJ went to type the message. Just having him near, with his incessant good mood and perky energy, seemed to lift Drake's spirits and take his mind off things he couldn't do anything about. Drake drank it in, wondering when JJ had become so important to his well-being that he was willing to sit here, yawning, when he could've been on his way to home and bed.  
  
Drake had to admit it to himself: being without JJ meant being alone. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
JJ walked through the doors of the station, humming under his breath. There was a song he couldn't quite remember, but the melody refused to leave his head. He had flung his coat over his shoulder; the weather was surprisingly warm and sunny. Hey, maybe spring hadn't quite forgotten New York that year, after all.  
  
"Hi," he said to Janet, who was sitting behind the counter, as always. "Has Drake-senpai...?"  
  
"No, he's not in yet," Janet said and yawned. She grabbed her coffee cup like the Holy Grail. "There's something for you, though; it came this morning."  
  
"Oh? Thanks." JJ took the file from Janet and opened it. Ah, Phillip Lance's complete autopsy report. Good. JJ nodded and continued on his way.   
  
He couldn't help being a little disappointed, although he hadn't really expected Drake to be there. JJ was a little early, and after all, he was almost always at the station before Drake.  
  
*I guess my mind sort of stuck to the idea that I'd be waking up with him,* JJ thought to himself as he hopped up the stairs. *Funny how self suggestion works. Well, at least I saw to it that he went home without falling asleep on his feet.* He smiled and shook his head at the thought. *Aren't I nice. It must be contagious.*  
  
It had been a while since JJ had felt so light-hearted. Sure, he had never been the brooding type, but this was something heady; the kind of feeling that makes one skip and hum half-remembered songs. JJ might not have had a particularly good track record when it came to falling for his workmates, but he had a good feeling about this. It would work. He'd make it work, somehow. His heart did a funny little somersault as he thought about the kiss at the parking lot the last day, and he had to forcibly drag his thoughts back to matters at hand - namely, the file.  
  
He went through the autopsy report, taking his time with it. Any clue of why someone would've imitated Lance's murder was vital. On the first reading, JJ couldn't find anything, but then he returned to the ankles: the unsolved mystery. Why cut someone's ankles? What connection did it have to the other cuttings?  
  
JJ frowned as he looked at the photo of Lance's cut ankles. Cleaned of blood, the cuts still looked deeper and bigger than the ones on the other victims' ankles. He dug up some pictures to compare, and checked the report, and it was true: Lance's ankles were not cut with a surgical knife, but rather a cruder weapon; most likely a big hunting knife. As a matter of fact, nothing seemed to suggest that a surgical knife was used to cut him up at all, contrary to the other victims. But what about the spleen? How did someone remove a spleen with a hunting knife? It was near impossible. Unless...  
  
Bingo. His spleen must've been removed long before. The old operation scar had just been slashed open.  
  
Pleased with his progress, JJ did a little poking about and made some phone calls to hospitals. True enough, Phillip Lance had gone to the hospital only two months before he had been killed. His spleen had swollen; apparently, a rather common complication. Since it was causing him a great deal of pain, the doctor in charge decided to operate immediately and removed his spleen. Lance had checked out of hospital as soon as he was able to walk, not heeding the doctor's recommendation that he should remain in the hospital for a few days. He had been picked up by his family, and hadn't come back for checking.  
  
That could mean that the operation scar hadn't healed properly, and could be easily spotted. It might've also been still sore, or at least a soft spot, which his killer had taken advantage of. Lance had been alive when the cut was made, but the slash wasn't deep. It sounded like he had had a run-in with someone who fought dirty; a typical back-alley gang fight. Had his murderer been a member of some western gang who had a mean knife and a gun and little to no respect for the dead? Seemed like it.  
  
But why would someone want to play copycat to a murder that on the first glance looked like a normal gang war casualty, if maybe a little on the gruesome side?  
  
"Drake!" Ryou peeked in and glanced around the room. He had a few files under his arm.  
  
"He's not in yet, senpai," JJ said, still pondering over the killer's motives.  
  
"Oh, damn. I needed him to sign this." Ryou bit his upper lip and thought for a second, then looked at JJ. "He's on the early shift, though, isn't he?"  
  
JJ smiled. "I think so. The evidence speaks against it, though."  
  
Ryou snickered in a tell-me-about-it tone. "Well, do me a favor and tell him to stop by our office when he appears, okay? Thanks."  
  
"Sure, senpai, no problem."  
  
"How's that case coming along?" Ryou asked, putting a file on Drake's desk. "Janet told me to bring this to you. You are really digging into the archives on this, aren't you?"  
  
JJ sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Well, it is a bit of a mess. We've got the pieces but they just don't fit together. I can't figure out what started it all - we've got the first murder victim, but no clues of the motives."  
  
"Did you check the backgrounds? His family?" Ryou immediately asked.  
  
"Yeah, of course. No gang connections there. Good, law-abiding citizens. Seems he was the black sheep, or something." As soon as he had uttered the words, something seemed to click. JJ picked up his notes and read what he had heard from the doctor: Lance was picked up by a family member. If he was the black sheep of the family, the one who joined a gang and was even good enough a thug to climb the ladder to be a respected member, why would his family still be picking him up? Were they just endlessly forgiving? No, it wasn't really likely. Exactly how well had Lance and his family gotten along? He'd have to check it out.  
  
"Good luck. I hear the chief was talking about adding people to your team, to get the case solved." Ryou made a face as he started to walk out. "You better work fast or you'll get Dee and me on your backs."  
  
JJ laughed a little. He didn't really worry about getting the case solved; he and Drake were only just getting started, but the big picture was becoming clearer and clearer. "Duly noted, senpai. Thanks for the warning."  
  
Ryou waved his hand and left. JJ returned to his notes. So then, Phillip Lance's family.  
  
He had just gotten started when he was interrupted, again. JJ looked up and huffed in exasperation, but his irritation faded when he saw who it was.  
  
"Hi," Drake said, a lopsided grin on his face. He looked like a bird had made its nest in his hair, but seemed otherwise chipper. He had a cup of coffee in each hand.  
  
"Morning. Ooh, is that for me or are you just stocking up?"  
  
Drake chuckled and handed him the other cup. "Don't act like I never buy you coffee, you freeloader."  
  
JJ pushed his notes aside and sipped the coffee. Drake's good mood lighted up the room. JJ noticed that Drake had dressed in a slapdash manner; his shirt wasn't buttoned all the way up, and if Drake hadn't been wearing a tie, the shirt would've been all too easy to get out of the way. JJ bit his lip a little and grinned. Maybe, if they got this case to a turning point that day, they could finish early and pick up from where they had left it last night...  
  
"I'm gonna have to finish early today," Drake said as he walked over to his desk, eyeing the file on it.  
  
JJ raised his eyebrows, shaking his head clear of daydreams. "Oh?"  
  
"Yeah, Jill called. Apparently there's something she wants to talk over, or something. Shouldn't take long, but I gotta get there before she leaves for work."  
  
JJ sighed under his breath. Drake never did learn how to tell someone 'no', did he? Well, most of the time JJ considered it a good thing, but he couldn't help being disappointed. Dammit, he wanted some time alone with Drake outside work, too. Would he have to make an appointment or something?  
  
"So what does she want to talk about?" he asked, somewhat uneasily. He didn't like the sharp tone of his voice - the least he wanted now was to appear petty and jealous.  
  
Drake seemed completely oblivious, however. He glanced absent-mindedly at the file Ryou had left for him. "Hell, I dunno. She seemed pretty upset; I was thinking maybe she had seen a glimpse of our killer."  
  
"Really now? Well, we can't ignore that, naturally." JJ didn't honestly believe Jill had seen anything that could help them. She would've called the station if she had really seen a dangerous killer in her neighborhood. Or at least she would've if she was smart, and she had seemed sharp enough at the party.  
  
JJ went through Lance's file, trying to gather his fleeing thoughts. "In any case, I was just looking into Phillip Lance's background. His family and so on."  
  
He heard Drake switch on his computer. "Found anything interesting?"  
  
"Nope. Boring, nice folks. So I can't help wondering - why would one sheep stray from the pack? His brother has a perfectly clean record and a respectable business in medicine, so it really--"  
  
"In medicine?" Drake looked up suddenly. "His brother's a doctor?"  
  
"Hold on..." JJ shuffled through the papers. He had a hunch of what Drake was thinking. "Thomas Lance, here we go. He's a surgeon; has a nice private clinic downtown. He made the diagnosis of his brother's condition first and recommended the splenectomy to the doctor who operated on Phillip."  
  
"Whoa, hold on, hold on." Drake held up his right hand. "Splenectomy? Like removing the spleen or something?"  
  
"Uh huh. Looks like Lance, our original victim, went to the hospital to have his spleen removed. His killer just cut along the operational scar, and supposing that we're dealing with a copycat here, our killer imitated him." JJ frowned. "Come to think of it, that would mean that the killer had to know about Phillip Lance's operation. I mean, when Lance was killed, his spleen wasn't removed on the spot, but the following victims all had their spleens removed, too. So, speaking hypothetically, our killer would be someone close to Phillip Lance."  
  
Drake grinned. "Feel free to breathe once in a while, JJ."  
  
"Oh hush. You got me started by bringing up Thomas Lance. You don't think he--?"  
  
Drake got up and came over to look at the open file on JJ's desk. He leaned his hands on the edge of the table. "JJ, I'd take any clue at this point. And it's not like we haven't seen anything like this before. Maybe Tommy thought his renegade brother needed to be taught a lesson, or maybe he just figured killing Phil was the only way to get him out of the gang; whatever. Besides, like you said before, how many people can remove a spleen that fast?" He gestured towards the note in front of JJ. "Here we have a professional surgeon."  
  
JJ tapped his notebook with his pen in order to draw both Drake's and his own attention to it. He liked the faint scent of the cologne Drake was wearing. "But what about the gang relations? These Red Robs would've gotten Thomas's head if he'd just gone and killed his brother. Maybe Thomas was actually one of the Red Robs, too, and simply wanted to remove Phillip to get ahead in the pecking order."  
  
Drake nodded thoughtfully. "It's possible. Red Robs seem to be pretty high class for street thugs; it makes sense that they'd have a couple of doctors in their ranks."  
  
"For an easy access to drugs and so on."  
  
"Yep, exactly." Drake bit his lower lip. "So, let's assume both brothers are Red Robs, and Thomas is smart enough to keep this hidden somehow. Thomas killed Phil to get into a better position in the gang, and is now repeating the murder to the last detail, to scare off Red Robs' enemies--"  
  
"Or maybe he cracked when he killed his brother and feels compelled to repeat his own mistake," JJ suggested. "Anyone who systematically cuts up strangers just to make a point can't be completely sane."  
  
Drake frowned. "But if Thomas is our killer, then why the sudden gore show? Doesn't seem very smart of him. If he's kept his gang connections hidden this long, why would he go out and cut people up himself? Wouldn't he risk exposure?"  
  
JJ grimaced suddenly. "Oh, damn. I think there's an even bigger hole in the theory. Our killer is white, all the witness statements are clear on that detail. The killer couldn't be Phil Lance's brother; he's black."  
  
Drake cursed under his breath and hung his head in defeat.  
  
They were both quiet for a while, contemplating.  
  
Finally Drake straightened his back and took a sip of JJ's coffee. "I thought it sounded too easy. Well, I guess we could make a little visit to Dr. Lance's clinic, in any case. Who knows, he might still have something to do with this."  
  
"I called there already, to ask about Phillip Lance's spleen. They said the good doctor's gone to a seminar and won't be back until tomorrow." JJ reached out his hand and Drake gave him his cup back.  
  
"Oh, hell."  
  
JJ drank down his coffee and stood up. "We should at least give his description to the uniforms."  
  
Drake glanced at him questioningly. "Why? I mean, it's not a given that Thomas Lance has something to do with the case - and he wouldn't show himself if he did, he's too sneaky for that. I thought we just established that he's *not* our killer; you doubting the witness statements or what?"  
  
"No, no. I just have a good hunch, that's all. And remember, even smart guys have stupid moments."  
  
Drake nodded, but he still didn't seem all that sure.  
  
JJ tried out his most convincing little smile. "Trust me on this one, okay?"  
  
Drake bit his lip and pondered over it for a minute before sighing resolutely. "Oh, dammit, fine. But it's your paperwork." He chuckled a little, shaking his head, before returning to his own desk to make the phone call. JJ heard him mutter something about being a pushover.   
  
JJ couldn't help smiling - he hadn't realized Drake had been aware of that attempt to charm him into things. Maybe Drake realized more than he let on. And sure enough, as if reading his thoughts, Drake gave him a playful glance as he waited for someone to answer the phone. It gave JJ a tickly feeling in his stomach. It was nice to flirt with someone and actually have them respond. He half-expected a rebuke; it had become the norm in JJ's mind.  
  
*Well, there's at least something we have in common,* he thought and slapped himself mentally several times to be able to concentrate on the open file on his desk.  
  
As the morning turned into afternoon, they talked to all the gang insiders they could reach without really learning anything new, and went through all the information about border skirmishes and gang wars they could find. JJ could swear his eyes were permanently crossing from all the staring at the screen. The Red Robs seemed to be a real thing, at least; there were several mentions of a west side group that had grown larger than a normal gang. But was their killer working for the Red Robs, or against them? And if the latter, for what group or gang? It was obvious he was drawing a border line with his murders, but was it to warn the eastern gangs... or the western?  
  
Drake rubbed his eyes. "You found anything?"  
  
"Nope, zip, nada." JJ leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms, moving his toes in his shoes. "Except that I figured out what this Red Rob means. Flip it over and it reads 'border'. Kind of logical."  
  
"Hey, yeah. I didn't think of that."  
  
"Any luck reaching the Lances yet?"  
  
"I gave up hours ago. Let's try again in the evening." Drake glanced at the clock on the wall and immediately sat up straight. "It doesn't look like we're getting anywhere soon. You mind if I leave the rest to you? Because I gotta get going."  
  
JJ made a disappointed noise. "You have to? Come on, Drake, don't do this to me. There's a pile of reports left. No, scrap that, a mountain." And an eager partner in need of attention, but he managed to bite it back.   
  
Drake grabbed his coat. "Sorry, JJ, but I promised. We'll get back to it later, okay? If you find anything, call me."  
  
JJ tried to pout and look rejected, but Drake had obviously made up his mind. He pocketed his cigarettes and checked his cell phone.   
  
In the doorway, he glanced at JJ and sighed. "Oh, don't look like that. C'mere."  
  
JJ got up and found his legs to be stiff from too much sitting. He walked slowly over to Drake, unsure of what to expect.  
  
Whatever he had expected, though, it hadn't been the sudden feel of warm lips on his own. Drake pulled back just when JJ's initial surprise was starting to fade and looked away, his hand flying to scratch his hair nervously. "We'll get back to that later, too," he said quietly.  
  
Screw that. Not when Drake looked so deliciously disheveled.  
  
Before Drake had the time to open the door, JJ pushed him against the doorframe and kissed him back. Taking advantage of one button left unbuttoned, he slipped his hand underneath Drake's shirt and explored the warm skin. He let Drake set the pace of the kiss, but kept him pinned. Drake groaned a little, an appreciative sound that didn't fail to feed JJ's fire. Drake's free hand wandered a little hesitatively to JJ's ass, then quickly grew bolder and soon JJ couldn't tell who had pinned whom, because he couldn't move for the life of him.  
  
Suddenly Drake reeled back, as if he was about to fall backwards through the door. JJ broke the kiss and looked up, puzzled.  
  
Drake chuckled breathlessly. "I hate to ask, but could you - move back a little? I can't hold this door for much longer."  
  
JJ looked at the direction Drake nodded, and saw that he had been holding the handle down all the time, and only his grip kept the door from falling open. JJ felt laughter bubble inside him at the thought of falling out into the hallway with his hand under Drake's shirt and Drake groping his ass. He stepped back a little, allowing Drake to pull the door wholly closed. Drake's eyes didn't leave his face for a second when he straightened his coat and made an attempt to look unaffected.  
  
JJ raised his brows questioningly.  
  
Drake shook his head, smiling. "Dammit, you're not making this easy."  
  
"Ah, well. You know me, the master of workplace harassment."  
  
Drake chuckled a little. "I'm still going, though."  
  
"I know. See you later."  
  
"I'll call you," Drake said from the doorway before hurriedly leaving the office.  
  
***  
  
The office felt empty and unnaturally quiet with no Drake there. JJ finished a report of their current status before heading to the break room for late lunch company.  
  
Dee came out of his and Ryou's office at the same time. JJ hurried to his side and smiled at him. "Are you going for lunch, senpai?"  
  
"More like dinner, at this time. But yeah, I am - with Ryou," Dee said a little too empathically and hazarded a glance towards the turn of the hallway. "As soon as the chief's done chewing him out."  
  
"Ryou-senpai? Surely not."  
  
"Yeah, well, maybe not chew him out, exactly," Dee agreed, raising one eyebrow. He pulled a cigarette from behind his ear, and then lit it up. "Something about our new case. Look, uh, I'm sure you'll find Ted or someone at the break room--"  
  
JJ couldn't help staring at the way smoke caressed Dee's lips before drifting away. "I'm off to get some bagels right now. I could bring something for you and - and Ryou-senpai, too, if you like, Dee-senpai."  
  
Dee flashed him a rare grin. "Yeah? That'd be great, JJ, thanks. You know what I like, right? And bring some of that green Italian stuff for Ryou." He waved his hand and wandered off to the direction of the chief's office.  
  
JJ looked after him, at the way his body moved as gracefully and carelessly as a big cat's, wondering if he would ever be able to stop *looking* at Dee. The sight of Dee no longer made his brain scream, "Must glomp now!" but even that had been hard enough to accomplish. JJ sensed the topic would come up sooner or later if he and Drake were to get somewhere, and he had no idea what he would say in that situation. It probably wouldn't go down well to admit that he still wanted Dee, still held on to a crazy daydream or two, even if all hope of ever realizing them had fled. But he didn't like the thought of lying, and he suspected it'd be all too easy for Drake to see through him. After all, they had been partners for a long time.  
  
"JJ?"  
  
Jumping a little at the mention of his name, JJ snapped out of his thoughts and turned around to see Ted.  
  
Ted pointed at the stairs behind him. In his other hand, he held a Big Mac. "I just heard some uniform calling for you. Says there's someone here to see you."  
  
JJ pricked up his ears. "Downstairs?"  
  
Ted took a gigantic bite of his burger and nodded. "Some old lady. Landers or Lance or something."  
  
JJ flew down the stairs so quickly that he almost slipped on the worn stone. Mrs. Lance! Phillip and Thomas Lance's mother! But why had she come here? She could've simply called. When he came to the hall, he looked around, scanning the place for elderly black women. JJ frowned as he realized there were none. He walked over to ask Janet, afraid that Mrs. Lance might've changed her mind and left.  
  
Janet recognized the name immediately. "Mrs. Lance? Yes - I think officer Sook went to get her something to drink. Poor lady, she looked like she had run all the way here. She's right over there."  
  
JJ followed her gaze and saw a tall woman in her fifties whose hair was a shade of screeching red. Her face, blushed and worried, was covered in freckles, however, so she must've been a natural redhead. JJ glanced back at Janet, puzzled. "You're sure that's her?" If this was Lance's mother - did that mean he had been adopted?  
  
"Sure." Janet nodded, and since her mind was like a supercomputer when it came to remembering people's faces, JJ didn't doubt her.  
  
He went over to the woman, who jumped and fidgeted nervously. "Mrs. Lance? Hi, I'm detective Addams. I was told you were looking for me?"  
  
The woman looked older up close. Her eyes were moss green and full of barely contained panic. "Yes. I mean, no, I didn't come to see you specifically, I-- Well, when I came here I heard that you had been trying to contact me."  
  
JJ nodded and gestured her to sit down on the bench. She didn't. "I wanted to ask you about your son, Thomas."  
  
Mrs. Lance's eyes widened and her face lightened up. She grabbed JJ's arm. "Then you *are* investigating? What have you found out? Where is he?"  
  
"Hold on a second, Mrs. Lance - your son is missing? When I called his clinic I was told that he was out of town for a meeting--"  
  
Mrs. Lance's gripped his arm tighter. Her expression flickered from despairing to hopeful. "I thought - I thought you already knew. I'm sorry. I just thought - Thomas, he's disappeared. No one knows where he is. I called some of his friends, and they said--" Her voice broke for a second, and when she continued, she sounded as if she was about to cry. "They said they had heard nothing of him for days." She finally slumped down on the bench and let go of JJ's arm, sobbing into her hand.  
  
Wheels were creaking and turning in JJ's head. Thomas Lance's mother seemed white enough, so it was possible that the person they were looking for was Lance, after all. And he was missing? Had been for several days? That meant he could've been anywhere. That he could be on his way to Bushwick right now.  
  
JJ glanced up to see a uniform coming towards them, holding a mug of hot coffee. "Officer Sook?"  
  
The man nodded.  
  
"Okay, I want you to take care of Mrs. Lance. She's here to report a missing person. I want all details ASAP. Mrs. Lance," he then said, softening his voice and turning to the sobbing woman, "Don't worry, we will find your son. I can promise you that."  
  
Mrs. Lance wiped her eyes, quickly recollecting herself. "Thank you, detective. I just can't help - thinking about my other son - how he--"  
  
"Mrs. Lance," JJ said, his pulse quickening and his feet already itching to dash out of the door, "I have just one question to ask you. Your deceased son, Phillip - was he adopted?"  
  
The stunningly green eyes widened again. "Phil...? Dear God, no - he was my son, only..." She hesitated.  
  
"Please, this is *very* important. If Phillip was your son, he obviously was a mulatto. Was he born out of wedlock?"  
  
Mrs. Lance averted her gaze and nodded. "Yes, I-- My husband was not his father, but loved him as his son. If only he could've been able to tell him that..."  
  
JJ nodded. "All right, thank you. Do you have a recent picture of Thomas? Can I borrow that?" He took a good look and then offered the photo to officer Sook. "Have the witnesses take a look at this picture and tell us if they recognize the man. Call me as soon as you find out." Then he whisked away.  
  
How had he not figured it out before? Thomas Lance hadn't killed his brother, but he hadn't been able to forget the murder. He had obviously been the good kid in the family, and tried to make Phil stop associating with the shady crowd - maybe this had been the final nail to his coffin, and he had become obsessed with revenge. Gangs had killed his brother, and therefore he would kill them by rousing them against each other. After all, there was no telling who had killed Phillip Lance, a western gang member or an eastern. It was the only explanation that made sense; the killer had to have some personal connection to gangs, but wasn't a member himself.  
  
He ran into Dee and Ryou as he was on his way to the office to get his coat.  
  
"Yo, JJ!" Dee called as he jogged to him. "Grab your gear and get a move on! There's a big gang fight in Brooklyn - looks like the work of those Red Robs of yours!"  
  
"Another murder victim," Ryou explained as JJ looked at them questioningly. "An important courier - we knew him. The gangs are almost ready for war on both sides of the city. The uniforms reported at least sixty people fighting at the crime scene; it's a damn mess."  
  
In Brooklyn? Wait a minute, that was a long way from Bushwick. The killer had broken his own pattern? That could mean something. Something like he had made a mistake, and could still be there.  
  
JJ quickly checked his gun and threw on his coat. "All right, let's go, senpai. I take it Chief assigned you on the case."  
  
"I did warn you," Ryou said, flashing him a quick smile. "Did you hear anything important from Mrs. Lance?"  
  
"Oh, you have no idea, Ryou-senpai. I'll fill you in on the way."  
  
"All right, where the hell is Drake?" Dee asked, glancing around. "Out for a smoke?"  
  
JJ stopped suddenly. "Drake. Damn." He went through his pockets, looking for his cell phone. He realized he must've left it at the office. "You go get the car, senpai; I'll meet you outside!"  
  
JJ ran into the office, grabbed his phone and called Drake while he walked briskly down the stairs. No one answered. Of course it stood to reason that Drake would mute his cell phone if he had something serious to discuss with his ex, but JJ couldn't help cursing under his breath. Drake had told him, "If you find anything, call me". So why didn't he answer the phone now? It would look so ugly in the report if they caught the perp this time and Drake was AWOL. He knew Drake certainly would beat himself up for it.  
  
It was a beautiful, warm afternoon outside. JJ only had time to briefly glance at the clear, already sunset-hued sky before he spotted Dee and Ryou and ran over to them, jumping on the backseat of their patrol car. Dee was driving, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in a steady rhythm whenever they were caught in the traffic lights. JJ guessed he was excited.  
  
"Where are we heading, exactly?" he asked.  
  
"Northern Brooklyn," Dee said. "A parking lot at the end of Martense Street. So, why don't you tell us what we're likely to run into there?"  
  
JJ explained everything they had gathered on the case that wasn't already known to Dee and Ryou, and also what he had just realized after speaking with Mrs. Lance.   
  
"A highly-educated, rich loony," Dee commented. "Not to mention dead set on revenge. Yeah, my favorite. This oughta be fun."  
  
"But why the ethnic minorities? That's what I haven't figured out yet," JJ said.  
  
Ryou turned on his seat to look at him. "Well, if it all comes down to his half-brother, whose father was black... He must've had some repressed aggressions towards blacks, since Phillip's birth must've been taxing for his family."  
  
"Not to mention his death." JJ sighed and looked out of the window. The setting sun colored the walls of the skyscrapers in vivid red hues. "That makes all too much sense, senpai."  
  
"Well, it looks like he got his revenge," Ryou said, pointing out of the window.   
  
They were arriving at the parking lot. Police cars and ambulances flashed their bright red lights, uniforms ran to and fro. There were people fighting everywhere; JJ saw one of the uniforms on the ground, trying to put the cuffs on a resisting, muscular boy who couldn't have been more than sixteen. Somewhere near, a gun went off several times.  
  
"God, it's a freakin' riot," Dee said as he parked the car and they all hopped out, guns ready.  
  
JJ stopped the nearest uniform, a plump, wide-shouldered man with a silvery mustache, and flashed his badge. "Excuse me. What's the situation here?"  
  
The man preened his mustache, obviously annoyed at being stopped in the middle of his duties. "We got at least thirty people on both sides. Mostly minors, but some of they're packin' some serious firepower, and even kevlar. Two officers were down before we arrived. For some reason this situation's drawn out their best troops."  
  
"Any idea which gangs we're dealing with here?" Dee asked him. "The guy who called me said someone had been yelling the name Red Robs when the fight first broke out."  
  
"Yeah, could be. Haven't heard 'em say that myself, but some of the kids I've seen here are Creepers, from the Manhattan area. 'Scuse me, detective, but do you mind if I go now? The fight's spreadin' all over the place." He gestured at the three cars parked at the far edge of the parking lot. The panels and the windshields had been smashed, and near one car on the ground lay an unmoving young girl, who was bleeding profusely. JJ just caught a glimpse of one or two people, who ran behind the next corner, one of them waving a spiked baseball bat. Two uniforms ran after them.  
  
"The little fuckers," Dee hissed. "I'm gonna go check on that girl."  
  
"Wait, Dee. Where did all this start? Where was the first body found?" Ryou asked the uniform.  
  
"You can't get there now," the man said as he jogged away to help his colleague with a struggling gang member. "Right over there."  
  
They all looked at the direction he gestured. The entrance to the small alley was blocked by men in blue, who tried desperately to gain control over the dozen furiously fighting youngsters in the alley. Someone raised a gun, waived it around carelessly. JJ thought he heard someone curse the Red Robs, but what with all the noise, he couldn't be sure.  
  
"I'll check that girl, no one's gone to her yet," Dee said. Ryou nodded, and Dee ran off, his gun ready.  
  
"I'll go see if I can find someone who's seen the body and make sure he was killed in the same way as the others," Ryou said. "Let's meet back here in ten minutes."  
  
"Okay, senpai," JJ said and then wondered what he could do when Ryou had gone, too. There was no point in blindly rushing into the crowd, trying to help the uniforms with their struggle. He looked around. Right now, Thomas Lance could walk whistling by and he wouldn't notice. The racket and the general chaos were enough to successfully hide an elephant.   
  
He checked the quiet alleys around the parking lot, and arrested two gang members in hiding, but saw no sign of the good doctor. Just when he was watching the uniforms take them away, his cell phone rang. Tandi Borland had said she recognized Thomas Lance from the photo. Well, that was at least something. JJ was glad that he had done as his hunch insisted and given Thomas's description to the uniforms earlier. That sped things up a little now.   
  
Ryou came back with someone who described the body of the courier for them, and JJ didn't flinch as he listed the same details as in the previous murders. So Lance had been here. But apparently he wasn't here anymore. It was getting dark, and they had absolutely no clue where to turn next.  
  
JJ was about to voice his thoughts to Ryou when his cell phone rang again. He walked a little away from the others, and the racket of the still-going-on-strong gang fight, and answered it. "Hello?"  
  
"JJ, you better get your ass down here." Drake's voice was so low he was practically whispering. Why was he whispering? JJ heard a strange sound, like a pained mewl or a sob, in the background. It sounded like an animal or a small child.   
  
"Where are you?" JJ asked, glancing at Dee and Ryou. Dee was leaning against the patrol car, also talking on the phone. He was probably going through the witnesses, digging for details.   
  
Drake sounded distressed. "I'm in Bushwick. One block away from where Borland was attacked. I can't see the building's number from here." Again, that strange sound. This time JJ was sure of it; someone was trying to muffle their sobs in the background. He frowned as Drake went on. "I think I just caught our killer red-handed. He saw me and fled. I fired a couple of shots after him but he disappeared."  
  
"Damn."  
  
"Yeah, exactly what I thought. Can't be helped, though."  
  
"Did you call the 83rd Precinct?" JJ asked, knowing that the local precinct weren't going to love them for dragging them on the spot for a wild goose chase twice in the same week.  
  
"No, not yet. I figured I'd check if you had any insight to offer. You found out anything?"  
  
Thomas Lance was in Bushwick. JJ's mind was racing. Of course. How stupid had they been? This had all been a distraction. Lance had not left his original plan, and while they had been busy with the gang riot, he had been in Bushwick, taking care of the last landmark on his way. It would've taken some planning, and piles of cash, but Lance could've well organized something like that. Clever bastard.  
  
"Drake, I was right; our killer is Thomas Lance. You think he's still around?"  
  
It was a second before Drake replied; it sounded like he said something to someone else in the meantime. The sobbing sound stopped for a moment. "Not sure. I saw him run away like his ass was on fire, so I think he decided to leg it for tonight. It really is Lance? You're sure?"  
  
"Yep. I'll explain later. Is the vic still alive?" JJ asked, trying to figure out how he could get there fastest. It was bound to take some time here yet.  
  
"Scared out of his skin, but yeah. I have him right here. One of Stevie's playmates."  
  
A little kid? Thank God for Drake's timing. "Is he all right?"  
  
"Yeah, like I said, the killer fled as soon as he realized he had been spotted. I don't think he even had time to take out his kni--"  
  
Suddenly Drake's voice was cut off, and it sounded like he had dropped the cell phone. JJ heard noise that sounded like the phone was scraping against the ground. In the background, the sobbing intensified.  
  
"Drake?" JJ asked, a cold hand creeping towards his heart. "DRAKE? Are you there?"  
  
He felt more than heard Ryou approach him. "JJ, is that Drake?"  
  
JJ could still hear nothing but muffled noise from the other end. He turned his attention to his colleague for a second. "Ryou-senpai, tell Dee-senpai to get the car. This was all a hoax; Lance is in Bushwick. Drake's there, too." His voice sounded overly calm to his own ears.  
  
Ryou span around on his heels and ran back to the car, cursing under his breath.  
  
JJ listened to the phone. It had gone strangely quiet. "Drake?" he asked, carefully, hoping against hope.  
  
All of a sudden, he heard someone breathing rather heavily.  
  
"Drake! Is that you? What happened? Speak to me!" JJ couldn't believe how fast his heart was beating. Drake was out there, alone and without backup, and Lance had a good reason to eliminate him. No, this wasn't good. He quelled the panic and the fear as they started to nibble at him, and concentrated.  
  
"JJ," Drake suddenly said, in a strange tone. No matter; he was speaking, he was alive. JJ released the breath he had been holding.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"JJ, I'm being held at gunpoint."  
  
JJ nodded, although he knew no one would see it. "What does he say?"  
  
"That he wants the knife. The surgical knife. He wants that, and everything we have on it so far."  
  
Their number one piece of evidence.  
  
JJ saw that Dee and Ryou were waiting with the car. He couldn't make his feet move. "Okay. Where does he want us to deliver it?" He was playing for time now, but he knew it wouldn't make much difference. They were on the opposite side of the city. Lance could do anything by the time they got there.  
  
"I dunno. Let me ask him." JJ winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of breath being knocked out of lungs. Drake's voice sounded forced when he continued. "I take it he'll contact you later."  
  
"Wait, wait - What about the little boy? Is he part of the deal, too? We need to know."  
  
"No, he sprinted away the second he saw Mr. Muddypants here. I guess he didn't like the smell of fish." A muffled groan of pain. JJ didn't know whether he wanted Drake to stop dropping hints or keep dropping them. Everything depended on that they would find out where Lance would take him.  
  
"Tell him he'll get his own."  
  
"I already did."  
  
"Drake, I'll--"  
  
Drake's voice grew anxious and louder. "JJ, he's taking the phone away, he has at least four guys with him, they're driving a white van, he's--"  
  
He was cut off, and JJ found himself listening to the busy signal.  
  
JJ shoved his cell phone into his pocket as he half-ran to the car where Dee and Ryou waited. "Fuck," he said under his breath, fighting down the sudden nausea. No, he would not think of what it might've cost Drake to give him those final clues. Lance would keep him alive. There was method to his madness, and killing the hostage just wasn't part of his method. He'd have to concentrate on that.  
  
"They have Drake," he told Dee and Ryou, even though they had probably already guessed as much. He was surprised to hear what his own voice sounded like in the confined space of the car. He sounded panicked.  
  
"Shit!" Dee hit the steering wheel as he sped away from the parking lot. He was seething. "Fucking hell. What do they want for him?"  
  
"The knife, I bet," Ryou put in. "Without it, we might not have enough evidence to get this case through. It's an obvious blunder for someone of Lance's calibre." He turned to Dee. "Let's go back to the station."  
  
"What?" JJ demanded.  
  
"We need to work up a plan. There's no way we'll reach Bushwick in time, so let's start thinking about how we're going to track them down. For a start, I better alarm the uniforms; I didn't get around to it."  
  
Ryou reached for the radio, but Dee grabbed his hand. "No. We won't report this until we've got a plan. We're talking Drake's life here, goddammit."  
  
Ryou's voice was edgy when he retorted, "Do you think I don't know that? How exactly is it going to help him if you won't let me call for backup?"  
  
"Dee-senpai's right," JJ put in. It didn't exactly make him feel better, but he knew that if they went after Drake and Lance with the whole cavalry, they'd be less likely to find them in time and more likely to get Drake killed. "We better try thinking up something by ourselves first."  
  
"But what about when Lance calls the station about the details of the exchange?" Ryou asked sharply, his gaze moving from JJ to Dee.  
  
"He won't," JJ said. Dee opened his mouth to say something, but then waited for JJ to continue. "He didn't make Drake call the station. I think Lance wants us to strike the deal for him. He won't come out; he wants to keep it between us and him."  
  
"Which means we'll be playing into his hand," Ryou said, undeterred.  
  
JJ looked at Ryou appealingly. "Drake's life is hanging on that knife. Any sign that we're not going to make a deal, and he's as good as dead."  
  
There was impending silence in the car for a while as Dee sped through the streets towards the station.  
  
"Okay, do we have anything to work on?" Ryou asked finally. His frown could be heard in his tone. He disliked breaking regulations on principle, but even Dee and JJ realized this was a lot more serious than their general disdain of going strictly by the book. Flying free on a murder case and failing to report vital information was *trouble*. They could all lose their badges if they botched this.  
  
"Drake did slip me some clues," JJ said thoughtfully. "About fish and mud - that must lead to the docks. And he said that they were driving a white van."  
  
"They'd need some place to keep it in," Dee said as he parked the car and exited it. "I bet Tommy Boy doesn't keep it home in his garage."  
  
They all slammed the doors closed a bit more forcefully than was necessary.  
  
Ryou looked at JJ. "Let's check out all medical storages in the dock area. And see if we can get Lance's receptionist to cough up something valuable."  
  
JJ nodded sharply, already half out of the garage door. "You do that, Ryou-senpai. I'll distract Chief somehow."  
  
"Whoa, JJ! Hold up for a second," Dee called. "Where are *you* going?"  
  
"To see if I can sneak my way into the armory," JJ replied, and when his comment was met with stupefied silence, he huffed impatiently. "If we are going to go after these guys by ourselves, I'm not leaving without at least an FN Rifle."  
  
Ryou raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Oh! I almost forgot we had a sniper in our little rescue team. That could be useful."  
  
JJ couldn't help the smile. "At your service. And I'd say we have two snipers, from the way you handle a rifle, senpai."  
  
The look on Dee's face was still dark. "Okay, let's cut the crap and work like our asses are on fire, gentlemen. We don't have a minute of extra time."  
  
JJ nodded swiftly, and started hurrying towards the armory.  
  
*Dammit, Drake,* he thought as he climbed the stairs, *you better have your spleen when I see you next.*  
  
***  
  
It was not yet dark outside when they were finished packing things into Dee's car. Spring was indeed well on its way; evenings were getting longer and lighter. JJ wished the good visibility would hold. His snooperscope was on the backseat, just in case.  
  
"So we're agreed?" Ryou confirmed, sitting down behind the steering wheel. "We'll call for backup right when we've arrived."  
  
Dee nodded as he took his place in the front. "That'll give us about fifteen minutes before anyone can get close enough for Lance or his goons to notice. Less for you, JJ, since you'll be closer to the station than us. You've got maybe five minutes to get into position and take aim. You think that'll be enough?"  
  
"Sure, if I can get a good view to the backdoor of that storage building." JJ jumped on the backseat again, next to the rifle case. He patted it like it was an old friend.  
  
Ryou turned to glance at him. "You saw the map. There should be a tall enough building nearby. If and when Dee and I fail, you may have to bolt, though. You'll be a sitting duck if they come out of the backdoor armed and prepared."  
  
JJ frowned. He didn't think Ryou had enough confidence in his abilities. JJ knew quite well how to keep himself unseen, thank you. "Let's go through the plan once again. You go meet the guy who contacted me, and try to strike a deal, using that fake knife. You demand that they bring out Drake, and when they drive out of the storage building to go pick up the knife--"  
  
"Or to actually bring out Drake. Hey, Lance could be the world's last honest psychopath," Dee suggested, snickering.  
  
JJ hmphed. "Right. In any case, I'll be waiting for them. I'll shoot their tires first, then try to slow them down before the uniforms arrive. Everything okay so far?"  
  
"Yep, and if we miraculously survive the negotiations, we'll join you as soon as we can." Dee quickly checked his gun. "The meeting place is only about five minutes' run away, if we take that shortcut Ryou found."  
  
They nodded at each other in turn. It was pretty amazing, JJ mused, that the three of them could make such an efficient team. He couldn't imagine having done something like this a year ago. Or maybe he would've, if the situation had called for it as badly as this one, but he could bet it wouldn't have gone as smoothly as now. He could keep things professional with Dee now. That had to mean something.  
  
Ryou dropped him off at a shady corner of a street about a block away from the storage building where Lance was keeping Drake - if their educated guess was correct. JJ threw the sports bag that contained the rifle over his shoulder and jogged closer, glancing to and fro. It was pretty quiet. He sneaked so close he could peek round the corner and see the front of the storage building. It stood a little apart from the next; probably because in the two-story house near it was an old, closed-down grocery store and the storage had been built close for easy access. The front of the storage looked as he had expected - a tall building, with one door on the right. Three or four people were on the watch, leaning against the corner of the building and smoking. JJ didn't want to risk being seen, so after a brief glance, he circled to the other side of the two-story building, looking for a ladder.  
  
The ladder was rusty and threatening to creak at every step, and JJ's nerves were seriously on the edge when he reached the rooftop. He spotted a chimney and crawled behind it, taking a few deep breaths to help himself focus. Opening the sports bag slowly, not wanting to make any noise whatsoever, he carefully sneaked a glance at the back of the storage building. The only guard, a tall, white-blonde man, was standing there like a statue. It was light enough still for JJ to see even the text on his tee-shirt: HERBIE'S HARDWARE.  
  
He glanced at his wristwatch. Dee and Ryou were most likely calling the backup now. He better hurry up getting the rifle ready; it didn't look like the guard was particularly suspicious or even attentive at the moment. JJ could've broken the rifle down into parts and put it together again in his sleep, so it didn't take him long. The position of the chimney forced him to lie uncomfortably, but he managed to get a good angle and started to take aim at the lower part of the big doors that would burst open any moment.  
  
First, he heard someone yell inside the storage building, and the guard glanced at the doors, obviously contemplating going inside to see what was going on. Then several other voices were raised, and it seemed like a fight had broken out inside. JJ guessed that they had been informed of Dee and Ryou's terms for the swap, and as expected, it didn't go down well.   
  
The guard was obviously unsure of what to do. Finally, he threw open the other door and went inside. JJ held onto the rifle a little more tightly. Not long now. And he had a nice, clear view. The door was left open, and JJ could hear a bit better what was going on inside.  
  
"What, you want us to LEAVE? Now?" demanded someone in a snarling, incredulous voice.  
  
An obviously enraged man snapped back, "This place will be crawling with cops soon! Someone's made a big fucking mistake somewhere!"  
  
"Look, man, how do you know that? Could be just--"  
  
"Shut up! Just shut your fuckin' mouth and tell your men we're leaving, NOW! Start up the car."  
  
JJ heard the engine being started and waited patiently for the car to appear. What he didn't expect was a young man running from the shadow of the building to the backdoor, shouting, "Someone's coming!"  
  
Dee and Ryou. But they were early. Obviously the negotiations hadn't gone as they had planned. Lance had seen through their little scam. Damn, did that mean Lance wouldn't try to leave the building at all? He could turn this into one ugly hostage situation if he decided to take the chance. JJ tried not to think about it and continued to aim at the door. It was open just enough for him to make out movement inside, but not enough to really enable him to see anything.  
  
After the young man had gone inside, someone suddenly threw the doors open all the way. JJ saw the white-blonde guard glance around, checking the surroundings, and he quickly retreated behind the chimney, cursing under his breath. That had been close. He waited a few agonizing seconds, then peeked around the chimney and resumed his uncomfortable position, trying to make out what was happening. He realized that he could now see inside the building, and could swear he saw a glimpse of Drake, but his view was blocked by a big, white van that was parked inside. JJ bit his teeth. The negotiations were off. He'd take his first chance at helping free Drake somehow.  
  
The car was slowly moving now, backing out of the building. JJ heard footsteps from the alley to his left and immediately recognized who it was when Dee shouted, "Hold it right there!" Dee clicked the safety catch off. The sound echoed off the stone wall.  
  
JJ seized the opportunity, took aim and easily shot the back tires of the van. Dee's gun went off at the same time; JJ guessed it was a warning shot, but it disguised JJ's shots nicely. Good - with luck, Dee would get someone to open the car doors, which would leave JJ with the relatively easy task of bringing down Lance and his underlings, should things turn ugly. Ryou must've been just behind the corner somewhere, also taking aim. Maybe this would work out, in the end.  
  
The driver of the van cursed loudly and looked out of the window.  
  
"This is NYPD! Thomas Lance, you're under arrest for murder," Dee announced, and walked slowly closer. JJ could see him from the corner of his eye. "Stop the vehicle and come out with your hands behind your neck!"  
  
JJ was concentrating too hard on the doors of the van to notice in time that the driver had grabbed a pistol and pointed it at Dee. He turned his aim at the driver's window, but before he had time to do anything, the shot rang in the closed space of the alley. JJ's heart jumped into his throat and he almost dropped the rifle as he saw Dee fall down. He bit back a scream. No. Dee was not dead. He should've seen that shot coming. Dee was quicker than that. No - he... He'd have to concentrate. Ryou was still around, or at least on his way. This was not over.  
  
"Is he dead?" asked someone down on the street.  
  
"Quickly, check if he's got the knife," said another voice, and finally, the doors of the van were opened and a young man - the same one who had yelled the alarm before - jumped out. He went to Dee's unmoving form and roughly searched him, taking his gun first.   
  
When the man moved out of the way, JJ saw Drake inside the van. He was leaning his head against the wall tiredly, but seemed to be awake. Behind him sat a blonde, tall man. Lance. Damn, Drake hid him mostly from view, but maybe JJ could try--  
  
A sudden shout turned his attention back to Dee. JJ felt relief wash over him as he saw that Dee had jumped up and turned the tables to their favor. He had caught the young man by the wrists and forced them behind his back. The man looked groggy - Dee had probably knocked his breath out. Dee took his gun and aimed it at the man's head. "Now this makes odds a lot more even, huh? I'm tired of fucking around with you, Lance! Get your big, fat ass out of that van, now!"  
  
Only gunfire answered Dee, who quickly ducked to the ground. The young man in front of him groaned once and fell down, bleeding from a dozen bullet holes in his chest and legs. There were at least three people firing from inside the van, JJ estimated, and resumed aiming at Lance, who had just moved a little forward, because Drake had shouted out and tried to break out of his hold. Good - JJ only needed a little better view and he'd get a nice, clear shot.  
  
JJ chanced another glance at Dee, who was on his knees on the ground, both hands raised, out of his breath and fuming. Three guns were aimed at him.  
  
"You're not gonna gain anything by killing me, guys," Dee said, and his usual grin returned to his face. "Listen, we can work out a deal. We can get you that knife of yours, quicker than you think. I know who's got it now."  
  
"Shoot him," Lance said, but as soon as he had said it, someone fired from the other side of the alley and one of his underlings cried out and dropped his gun.   
  
JJ reacted and disarmed another thug. That shot - it had to be Ryou, at last.  
  
"Gimme that!" Lance grabbed the gun from the hand of a nearby man and aimed it at Dee's head, shoving Drake out of the way.  
  
There! The chance! JJ took aim and, acting faster than he could think, fired. It was a perfect shot, a clear view. But in the next few seconds, when his mind caught up with him, JJ saw that someone else had reacted fast as well. Drake had shoved at Lance, trying to knock the gun off his hand, and got him off balance.  
  
Breath caught in his throat, JJ saw Drake cry out as a dark red blotch started to spread on his chest. Behind him, Lance groaned as well, and fell to the floor.  
  
As he watched, horrified and frozen to place, and saw Drake follow Lance down, JJ suddenly found himself remembering someone.  
  
Max. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
  
Ryou glanced at his watch as he ran, tilting it in order to see the time in the darkness of the alley. Dee had been without support for six minutes. It was a matter of seconds now, and Ryou was acutely aware of it each step he took. It was never a good thing to be separated from your partner, but in a free-flying case like this... Oh, this wouldn't end well, he knew it. He didn't even look back at the young man he had just knocked out; no matter if one or two of Lance's men got away if they could catch the man himself. This case had just been made personal, and not just because of Drake. The thought of not being able to be there for Dee because a few punks had showed up to act tough made him grit his teeth.  
  
Following the wall of the storage building, Ryou ran forward, his thoughts flashing from one worst case scenario to another. He was doing his best to be as silent as he could, but soon found out there was no need to tip-toe. People were shouting right on the other side of the building, and the sound echoed off the rusted tin walls. Ryou recognized Dee's voice now; he was talking about making a deal. Ryou willed himself to ignore the sound of his own heart pounding and concentrate on Dee's voice, but it was cut off by the sound of gunfire. Ryou's heart jumped into his throat.  
  
He halted at the corner of the building, and after a quick intake of breath, spun around it, gun ready. The moment Ryou caught sight of the van and the gun pointed at the kneeling Dee, he fired at the hand that was holding the gun. It was a good shot, too, considering his limited view, but he didn't stay and marvel on it. He retreated to the safety of the shadows, but raised his gun again when another gunshot echoed in the closed space. The sound was different - it came from somewhere above him. Thank goodness, JJ was still in action. They were outnumbered until the backup would arrive.  
  
"Gimme that!" said a snappy male voice, and Ryou heard JJ shoot again. A short, ragged cry of pain followed the sound. With any luck, that was Lance.  
  
Deciding he would risk it, Ryou took a big step sideways, so that he came into the range of light, and pointed his gun steadily forward. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the approaching sirens. His heart was hammering, but it was probably just the running.  
  
The scene wasn't quite what he had expected. There was a van, still with its motor running, almost entirely backed out of the storage building. The van's backdoors were open and Ryou quickly counted five people inside, two down. Dee had hopped back on his feet, but Ryou noted with worry that his right pant leg was torn and glistening with fresh blood. He stood firmly, though, and was currently putting away his cell and pointing his gun at the driver, ordering him to get out and spread 'em. At Dee's feet, there was an unmoving body, a bundle of a human being.  
  
Ryou turned his attention to the three people in the car, two of whom had already raised their hands in defeat. None of them looked to be over thirty; they had a rather spooked look about them. "This is NYPD; you can't escape, this area is surrounded! Put your guns down and kick them over to me! Do it now! Exit the vehicle!"  
  
Ryou herded the only moderately resisting men to Dee, who was searching through the driver's pockets.  
  
Dee looked at him as he pulled out a small pistol from under the driver's jacket. "You okay?" he asked quickly.  
  
Ryou nodded. "Sorry I'm late. I ran into some friends."  
  
Dee shoved the man among the others, and ordered with a strained voice, "Put your hands against the wall! Oh yes, smart boy, that means you too!" He glanced back at Ryou. "I'll take care of this, you go check on Drake."  
  
"Is he inside?"  
  
"The van," Dee said, nodding in the direction with his head. When their eyes met, there was stern worry in Dee's gaze. "For fuck's sake, go!"  
  
Drake was inside the van? That meant one of the unmoving people he had seen inside had been Drake. Oh, hell!  
  
Ryou ran over to the van and went inside. Lying on the floor, unmoving, with his eyes open and unseeing, was a blonde man whom Ryou recognized from the picture JJ had shown him: Thomas Lance, their suspect. He looked to be dead. Next to him, lying on his side, was Drake. His coat and shirt were bloody; he was bleeding from a bullet wound on the left side of his chest. His ragged, uneven breath was the only sound in the closed space. His eyes were open and still clear, and they focused on Ryou as he approached.  
  
"Drake?" Ryou asked, quickly checking if there were other injuries. For the love of Christ, one bullet was more than enough. His hand met something wet at Drake's back, and looking at the blood spreading on the light fabric of the coat, Ryou realized that the bullet must've gone straight through him. Drake let out a strangled moan, and Ryou quickly removed his hand.  
  
"Hurts," Drake managed in a strangled voice. "Fucking... hurts."  
  
Ryou saw blood on his teeth. He swallowed. That meant the bullet had probably pierced his lung. A lump settled in his throat as he desperately scanned the car for something to bind the wound with. The dark blood didn't stop flowing, and he couldn't do much good with just his hands. "It's okay, Drake, we'll get you to a hospital. Don't worry, okay? Okay, Drake?" He didn't know who he was convincing, himself or Drake. Ryou knew what bloody teeth usually meant.  
  
Seeing that there was nothing usable in the car and the nearest first aid kit was in their car about two blocks away, Ryou simply took off his coat and, knowing that wool would help at least a little, pressed the sleeve against the wound.  
  
Drake coughed; a nasty, wheezing sound. Then he gasped a few times and his eyes slipped shut.  
  
"Oh shit, no, don't die on me," Ryou mumbled frantically, and checked his pulse, leaving two bloody fingermarks on Drake's skin. He found it easily, and sighed in relief. In retrospect, it was probably better if Drake was unconscious; the bullet wound must've hurt like hell.  
  
Ryou remembered their suspect and reached over to check Lance's pulse with his other hand. To his amazement, he found a strong pulse. Lance had a bullet wound in his chest as well, only a little lower, and it didn't seem to bleed at all. It was obvious neither one of the shot men was going to survive long if they didn't get the ambulance here ASAP, though.  
  
"Dee!" he yelled, keeping his eyes on Drake's pale face. "Dee, have you called the ambulance?"  
  
How had this happened? Ryou hadn't heard anyone shoot but JJ. Perhaps Lance's people had silencers, but that didn't explain why both Drake and Lance were shot. He pushed the unanswered questions aside and made sure Lance could breathe properly by pushing him over to his side with his one free hand.  
  
Amidst the shuffling, he didn't hear JJ enter the van. Ryou turned around and jumped a little at the sight of him. JJ's eyes were huge and white in the twilight and filled with horror.  
  
"Drake," JJ demanded, "How's Drake?"  
  
Ryou frowned and said, "He's alive." It sounded less than convincing.  
  
A look of despair flashed on JJ's face, and he pushed Ryou out of his way, taking his place at Drake's side. The sleeve of the coat was already turning dark from the blood. Ryou was relieved to leave the task to JJ, he was ashamed to admit.  
  
He jumped out of the van and turned his gaze at Dee. "Dee, did you call the ambulance?"  
  
"It's on its way," Dee replied, still pointing his gun at the four people standing against the wall. "I told the 83rd Precinct we have a detective down."  
  
As soon as he had said it, a patrol car sped into the alley, and two uniforms jumped out. Another car appeared at the other end of the alley. The sound of sirens echoed everywhere. It calmed Ryou; they were no longer alone on the case. The uniforms quickly started cuffing the arrested men, and Dee put his gun back into holster and came over to Ryou. He was walking with an obvious limp now, trying to take weight off his right foot.  
  
"That man over there," Ryou said, pointing at the unmoving body on the ground, "is he dead?"  
  
Dee nodded. "Six bullets to the chest, no vest. You'd think it's a relief when they kill their own for ya, but it's just fuckin' dirty." He made a face and looked away, muttering under his breath.  
  
An uniform came to them and they explained the situation the best they could. When the woman turned away to give instructions to other cops that had just showed up, Ryou realized that Dee and him had both been unconsciously covering up for each other and JJ. The details had better stay under wraps until they had finished their cover story. Christ, it had been hard enough to think of one before, but what would they do now that Drake was down? They were screwed. Ryou glanced at the van, noticing that JJ still hadn't come out.  
  
Dee followed his gaze. "How is he?"  
  
Ryou looked to the ground and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know, Dee, I--"  
  
"Bad." Dee sighed a little and ran his hand through his hair. "Isn't it?"  
  
"I just hope the ambulance will get here in time. You've hurt your leg." He gestured at the torn pant leg, and then looked up into Dee's eyes, to keep him focused and to know if he was lying.  
  
"Nah, it's just scraped."  
  
"Dee."  
  
"Okay, it hurts like a bitch. There was broken glass on the ground where I dove down, fuck it. That's the last time I fake taking a bullet."  
  
Ryou winced. "When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"  
  
"I don't KNOW when was the last time I had a fucking tetanus shot!" Dee snapped, making Ryou jump a little. Dee wetted his lips and looked around, nervously, desperately.  
  
I don't need this, was Ryou's first thought as he stood there, blood of a colleague on his clothes and about to get sacked for this completely insane stunt they had just pulled. I really don't need one of Dee's temper tantrums right now. Deep down, he knew they were both just stressed, but he had to fight to not snap back. There were limits to how much he could take, and Ryou had been in the red since the moment he had seen Drake's eyes slip shut.  
  
While they stood there in mutual distress, an ambulance backed into the alley from the dockside. It was getting crowded, what with all the uniforms running around, trying to make sense of the situation. Ryou glanced over at the van, ready to go there and help, but he saw JJ had already jumped into action and was currently talking with the paramedics.  
  
"Hey." Dee came close to Ryou, took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."  
  
Ryou squeezed his arm assuringly. "I'm sending you to the hospital with Drake and Lance."  
  
"It's not--"  
  
Ryou looked Dee in the eyes and took a firmer grip on his arm. "We'll handle the rest. You need to have that leg checked. Keep an eye on Drake, okay?"  
  
Dee gave up with a little sigh, shrugged and gave him a quick kiss that managed to make Ryou smile a little, despite everything. Ryou gently pushed Dee to the direction of the paramedics, who were currently carrying Lance out of the van. Ryou showed them the way to the shot young man who was still lying on the ground, unheeded and unnoticed. Then Ryou allowed himself a minute to just breathe and feel like he had done his best while others ran to and fro around him.  
  
He saw JJ talking with the uniforms who had arrived first. When the paramedics started closing the ambulance doors, JJ glanced up and went to stop them. Ryou ran over to grab his shoulder. "JJ, let them go."  
  
JJ glanced at him, eyes still wide and horrified but otherwise calm. There was blood on his neck and cheek that wasn't his, although it looked like he had tried to wipe it off.  
  
Ryou nodded okay to the paramedics, who banged the doors shut and sped away from the alley. Then he turned back to the quietly waiting JJ. "Even if you went with them, they wouldn't let you see him for hours yet. Besides, they're expecting us to return to Brooklyn to wrap things up." He cocked his head a little, trying to read JJ's blank face. "If you're feeling up to it."  
  
JJ nodded swiftly. "Yeah. You're right, senpai. Let's go."  
  
Ryou frowned. "You're sure?"  
  
JJ nodded again, and suddenly Ryou realized that this was exactly how he himself would've reacted if Dee had been shot and there was nothing he could do. JJ was trying to hold himself together, and concentrating on matters at hand was the best way to go at it. Ryou could understand that. He forced himself into action, and showed JJ the way to the car.  
  
After some hesitation, Ryou let JJ drive. They headed first to the station, so that JJ could slip the rifle back in its place and they could take a little breather, maybe change their clothes. Ryou was worried about what Chief would have to say, but then he realized that it was almost nine o'clock; Chief would've gone home for today. That would at least give them some time to get their plan's final stage over and done with: they'd have to write the report without mentioning Drake's kidnapping. Ryou frowned as he thought about it. He wondered if they could pull it off. It wouldn't be easy to act like it had never happened. He knew Dee at least had a big mouth, and JJ, well, JJ…  
  
He glanced at JJ. The younger detective was keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.  
  
"He will be okay, JJ," Ryou said rather pointlessly, feeling like he had to say something to make JJ feel better.  
  
JJ frowned and nodded, but didn't say anything. From him, this kind of silence was unnerving. Ryou turned his gaze back to the road, too.  
  
When they arrived at the station, it was bustling with the usual liveliness that the change in shifts spurred. The night shift people were at the vending machine, getting their coffees. Ryou pushed his way through them, and waved goodbye to Ted, who was just walking out with his coat over his shoulder and a wide, cheerful grin on his face. It reminded Ryou that he hadn't originally planned on doing double shifts today, since Bicky was over at Cal's and there was a rare peace and quiet in Ryou and Dee's new apartment. Well, it looked like it couldn't be helped now. They had to make sure everything would go according to their plan the next day, when Chief came back to work. That meant writing the reports carefully and refining their cover-up stories. In other words, smart lying, which Ryou really didn't like to think about.  
  
"I'll be right back," JJ said and disappeared with the sports bag.  
  
Ryou nodded and called the crime scene in Brooklyn. Things were under control there; the officers just needed them to take a look at the body, talk to a couple of gang members and tell the beat cops what the hell was going on. The usual filler job. Then Ryou went to clean up a little. The drying blood was off-putting, especially if they'd have to speak to witnesses. Good thing the night was so warm; he realized belatedly that he had left his coat with Drake.  
  
JJ came back and they worked on the report for a while, longer than Ryou had expected. They had hardly exchanged a word as they had both typed and harbored their own thoughts. In the end, they headed off without filling out half of the blank spots in their cover story. Ryou glanced at JJ as they walked, and could swear JJ was gritting his teeth. The silence was really getting to him now. It was the kind of silence that tended to end messily, with someone getting hurt.  
  
Not wanting to risk JJ having a fit in the middle of night-time traffic, Ryou walked straight to the driver's side. "Here, let me drive for a change."  
  
JJ frowned. "I'm all right, senpai."  
  
"JJ, you're shook up, and I'm driving." Ryou reached out his hand.  
  
"Fine, don't trust me," JJ said and shrugged stiffly, throwing him the keys and getting into the car.  
  
That one stung. Where had it come from? "JJ, if I didn't trust you, I wouldn't break regulations just so you can get yourself a big gun and shoot at people." One look at JJ confirmed that had been entirely the wrong thing to say. That's it; he would give up on trying to crack jokes. They tended to fall flat.  
  
"Maybe you shouldn't. Oh, I don't know." JJ rubbed his eyes and sighed, seeming to suddenly come back to life. "Sorry, senpai. That was uncalled for."  
  
"Don't worry about it."  
  
"Right. We have lots of other things to worry about. I can explain the rifle disappearing for a while, but how are we going to explain us being at the crime scene? We're not pulling the hunch card again, are we?"  
  
Ryou stopped in the traffic lights, even though he knew he could've made it before the light went red. He was in no hurry to get to Brooklyn for a mind-numbing check-up. "Yeah, and how are we going to explain Drake? Actually, I'm not quite clear on that myself. What happened, did you see? Did they use silencers?"  
  
JJ was quiet for a short while. Neon lights flowed through the car, coloring the silence. When JJ answered, his voice was soft. "That's going to be tough to explain. You see, senpai, both him and Lance were shot with the same rifle."  
  
Things clicked into place in Ryou's head in one chilling second. "JJ, do you mean you..."  
  
"Yes." JJ looked out of the window. For a moment, he seemed to shrink away. "I screwed up. He moved, I didn't see... I screwed up."  
  
"But... JJ, you've never missed a single shot in your life, as far as I know! There must've been something--"  
  
"Look, senpai, I know what happened. And what happened was this: I was aiming at Lance, and, and somehow, I managed to hit Drake, as well. It all happened too fast, I - I couldn't --" JJ took a deep breath, and his voice quickly gained confidence as he continued. "Well, that's neither here nor there, not now. The report. We have to... focus on what didn't really happen."  
  
Since his mind apparently worked in similar ways to JJ's, Ryou had already constructed a sketch of a plan about Lance's goons using stolen police guns, but damn. He hadn't expected this. Him thinking up a cover story for a shooting of his colleague? JJ missing a shot and firing at Drake? Everything seemed to have gone topsy-turvy since that morning. He'd have to call Dee later. If Dee had made up with Nurse Emily and bought her flowers in the meantime, Ryou could be sure this was all a crazy dream.  
  
When they reached Brooklyn, the parking lot had quieted down and was now empty, dark and somewhat sad. Uniforms were talking to the people who lived in the nearby houses, none of whom had seen or heard anything, naturally. Some would have to be taken to the station and carefully coaxed to open up if they wanted details. Ryou could almost feel the job hovering over him. JJ went over to check the scene of the murder, and was already chatting eagerly with the uniforms before he got to the alley. He seemed to have stepped on the accelerator and was now absolutely unstoppable; acting so he wouldn't have to think. Ryou knew that feeling well enough.  
  
Ryou walked through the scattered pieces of broken glass and general wreckage, thinking of what kind of a person would stage this, just to make a distraction. He gritted his teeth. He would see Lance proven guilty, for the sake of the kids and officers who had been just walkers-on in the plan and were now dead. Given the scarce hard evidence they had gathered, it would not be easy to take Lance down. He could afford a battalion of lawyers, and could make the case as difficult and prolonged as he wanted. They had witnesses, but the only one who had recognized Lance was Tandi Borland, who had been arrested for possession of drugs so many times she must've brought her own pillow to the cell. Her testimony wouldn't be taken seriously. As a matter of fact, without the knife, their case would be on really flimsy ground.  
  
Maybe it had been all worth it, then.  
  
"Excuse me, detective?"  
  
Ryou turned around to see a blonde woman in her forties, one of the uniforms whom he had helped take a difficult gang member in earlier.  
  
The woman gave him a little smile, clearly remembering him. "The witnesses are on their way to the station right now, if you want to talk to them. I think we're pretty much done here. We'll call you if we find anything else, but I think the crew is going to wait until it's light again, anyway, so there's really no need to stand around here."  
  
She must've noticed how tired I look, Ryou thought.  
  
The surprisingly familiar tone made him feel better, and he smiled back. "That's good to hear. Then I guess I'll just pick up my colleague and go."  
  
Before he went to inform JJ, however, Ryou called Dee. He had to know what was going on with Drake.  
  
"Hey," Dee answered the phone, in a sleepy voice.  
  
"Hey yourself. You sound like I woke you up." Ryou breathed in the cool night air, wondering what time it was. His own eyelids were starting to feel heavy. "What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing much. I was dozing off; good thing you called. The doc is taking forever."  
  
"Got your foot checked?"  
  
"Yes, Mom. I was just waiting for someone to come back and tell me what's going on with Drake. I think they're still operating on him or something. Taking friggin' forever..."  
  
Ryou could hear the worry in Dee's voice, even through the sleepiness and the deceptively light tone. He turned to look at JJ, and jumped a little when he saw that JJ was standing only a step away. The younger detective's eyes were so wide and demanding they were threatening to fall out of their sockets. "Listen, Dee, here's what we'll do. I'm sending JJ over there."  
  
"Love you too," Dee quipped, but didn't sound particularly distressed.  
  
"Someone has to finish the report," Ryou continued, speaking as much to JJ as to Dee, "so I'm heading back to the station while I'm still up and about. There are some witnesses from the Brooklyn scene that need to be questioned, but I'll handle them. We can switch in a few hours when I can no longer keep my eyes open. That report has to be on Chief's desk tomorrow morning, readable, double-checked and written according to our story." Ryou took a deep breath. "If we can pull it off, we are clear."  
  
JJ nodded curtly at Ryou's plan. "I can catch the subway, senpai. I'll be at the hospital more quickly than by car." He was itching to go, and Ryou didn't have the heart to keep him for a minute longer. He nodded okay, and JJ was on his way before Ryou could say a word.  
  
"Ryou?" Dee called, drawing his partner's attention back to him. "I took a good nap before so I'm a-okay for another couple of hours. How about you call me when you get too tired, and I'll come and pick up where you've left it?"  
  
"Sounds good. And you can alert JJ to come finish up when you're nodding off."  
  
"We're gonna make it," Dee said assuredly, "no sweat."  
  
"Who said we wouldn't?" Ryou asked, mildly amused.  
  
"Oh, don't give me that. You hate this plan. You don't think it's gonna work for a second. But tell you what; I think you overestimate Chief Teddy. Believe me, I've survived far dumber schemes."  
  
Ryou shook his head and felt a tug at the corners of his mouth, wondering how he had ever gotten by without Dee's unquenchable belief that ultimately, craziness paid off. "Let's hope so. And let's hope that Drake survives it, too."  
  
Dee's tone grew more serious, but not any less convinced. "He will. Of course he will."  
  
Borrowing faith, Ryou went back to the car and drove to the station. The lies he spent the next two hours writing seemed whiter by the minute. Dee called and ushered him to go home and get some sleep, and Ryou gratefully obliged. He was so tired when he finally reached their apartment that he didn't even worry about next morning, just kicked off his shoes and fell onto the couch.  
  
Ryou woke up to the pleasant smell of coffee and toast. He scrambled up, feeling about as disarrayed as a Picasso painting, and went to the kitchen, taking off his sweaty shirt in the process and tossing it over to the laundry bin.  
  
Dee was sitting at the table in his pajama pants, drinking coffee. He looked up and smiled cheerfully when Ryou approached. The dark lines under his eyes told that the perkiness was due to the caffeine and nothing else, however. "Morning. No offence, darlin', but you look just about as shitty as I'm feeling."  
  
Ryou helped himself to the coffee, idly noticing that the clock on the wall said 8:12. He hoped Bicky remembered he was supposed to go speak with his guidance counselor today. Ryou had meant to call and remind him, but it was no wonder that he hadn't gotten around to it. Well, Bicky had to learn to take responsibility anyway. It wouldn't do to pamper him to think Ryou would always be there to take care of things for him. "Mm, no, I'm fine. But I have to call Bicky before we head to the station."  
  
Dee squinted and made a face. "Do not remind me. It had to be past four when I got home."  
  
The coffee was really good; breakfast was Dee's specialty. "I wonder when JJ got to go home, then. One thing is for sure, we're not waking him up."  
  
Dee made a nonchalant noise in his throat and finished his toast. "He looked about ready to work for another twelve hours when he came to the station. Can't believe the energy levels on that guy."  
  
"He's dying of worry, can't you tell?" Ryou sighed a little. "Did you call the hospital?"  
  
"I didn't have to. JJ had milked the doctors for every tidbit they had to offer, I bet. I didn't stick around and repeat the process with him since I was beat. But looks like Drake pulled through the operation just fine and is now sleeping." Dee smiled a little, genuinely this time.  
  
Ryou let out the breath he had been holding. "Oh, that's so good to hear. Truly. When I saw him cough up blood--"  
  
"Well, it was a close call, from what I could overhear."  
  
"Good thing for JJ, too. I wouldn't want to think how he'd take it if Drake died of his shot."  
  
Dee raised his eyebrow, but didn't seem very surprised at all.  
  
"JJ hit him by accident," Ryou explained, although he was beginning to think that he didn't have to. "He said Drake got into the way of his shot when he was bringing Lance down."  
  
Dee nodded slowly. "I thought that's what happened. I saw Drake elbow at Lance. He practically threw himself in the way of his bullet. Saved my life, too, probably."  
  
Ryou looked at Dee. His voice had become choked at the end of the sentence. Sure enough, the deep green eyes were hazy and full of emotion. Ryou reached over and squeezed Dee's hand, firmly and reassuringly. Dee raised their entwined hands to his mouth and closed his eyes for a second. His breath was warm on Ryou's hand, but he didn't kiss it.  
  
"Damn good he made it," Ryou said quietly.  
  
And damn, damn good you made it, too, he thought, but knew he didn't have to say it out loud.  
  
Dee nodded. "Would've kicked his ass if he hadn't."  
  
They spent a minute wallowing in sweet relief. Outside, the spring sun was shining, bright and clear.  
  
Fueled by another potful of coffee and determination to finish what they had started, Ryou and Dee made their way to the station. They didn't even have to look for Chief, as he was in the entrance hall, buying a Twix bar.  
  
"Ah, you two," he called, and gave them a toothy grin, "around when I need you, for once."  
  
"Sir," Ryou said and nodded, waiting for the verdict. Beside him, Dee was moving nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  
  
The chief patted Ryou on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "I got your report. Looks like it turned out to be a close call despite my best efforts, eh? I swear, we'll be sorting this out for a good two weeks at least. How's Parker, for starters?"  
  
"He's getting better," Dee put in, "from what JJ told me, he pulled through just fine. Lance, too."  
  
Chief nodded. "Well, that's good." He sighed heavily. "One of my men is down, one is - apparently - AWOL, and I'm stuck with you two. What do you suppose I should do with you?"  
  
"JJ will be here shortly," Ryou began, "he's just--"  
  
Chief made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Ah, save it, Randy. I don't have the time to hash this out with you now, anyway. The phone's been ringing all morning. Can't you lamebrains arrest people with fewer lawyers?"  
  
Dee snickered. "Doing our best, Chief."  
  
"All right, you're dismissed. I don't want to see your scrawny asses here until Monday, you've given me enough trouble for the week." Chief bit into the Twix bar. "Well, what are you staring at? Go on, get lost! And you can tell Addams the same when you see him!"  
  
Ryou's face broke into a smile. "Thank you, sir." He turned and followed Dee, who was already halfway out of the door.  
  
"I always tell you he's a nice guy underneath it all," Ryou couldn't help pointing out to Dee.  
  
Dee threw the car door open and climbed onto the passenger seat. He didn't risk trying to drive with his injured foot, although he claimed the foot had only itched since he had gotten it treated. "The tanuki has his moments. You wanna go check on Drake, or straight home to bed?"  
  
"Well, the hospital's not that far out of the way. I don't think they'll let us see him yet, but we could try." Ryou already knew Dee thought the same.  
  
The hospital was alight with the late morning sun and surprisingly quiet as they walked through the doors. Ryou went to ask a nurse about Drake's room number, but Dee caught his arm and pointed at the stairs. Ryou noticed the way he leaned against the wall, a bit too heavily for a mere laid-back gesture.  
  
"Up to the third floor and then to the left, according to what JJ told me."  
  
"All right," Ryou said. "Why don't you try and find the doctor in charge and I'll go see if he's awake."  
  
Dee nodded reluctantly, obviously noticing the way Ryou looked at his leg. "Meet you there."  
  
Ryou hopped up the stairs, almost colliding with a nurse who was hurrying down. He apologized and went on, thinking how much he needed a good night's sleep.  
  
To Ryou's surprise, he saw a familiar figure slumped on a chair, next to the door of Drake's room. JJ was snuggled into the chair in the manner of someone who is capable of sleeping comfortably anywhere. His hair pointed in every direction, and he was wearing the same clothes as the night before, with some dried blood still on his sleeves. He had taken his shoes off, though; they were placed neatly under the chair, an amusing contrast to their owner, who looked a mess, if peaceful in his sleep.  
  
Hadn't he gone home at all? Ryou shook his head and sighed, feeling like a babysitter when he shook JJ's shoulder carefully.  
  
JJ woke up with a start, his eyes opening wide immediately as if he had been just playing possum. "Yes?" he said, in a sleep-slurred voice.  
  
"Hi," Ryou said as JJ straightened his back and stretched his arms, quickly and nervously. "You crazy kid, didn't you go home to sleep at all?"  
  
"Didn't mean to sleep that long," JJ muttered, ignoring Ryou's question. He checked his wrist watch and sighed. "Well, maybe an hour didn't hurt. Do we have to go to the station now, senpai?"  
  
Ryou sat on the chair next to JJ's, looking at him a bit warily. There was nervous electricity in JJ's manner; something Ryou had never seen before. He had always taken JJ for a pretty open, never-holding-back kind of guy. Now it seemed like he was holding back so violently he would soon implode. "No, the chief gave us a long weekend. I think we made it through just fine. Did you manage to see Drake?"  
  
JJ nodded, looking at his toes. "He's sleeping. Lost a lot of blood. My bullet scraped his lung but at least it went clean through. If it had stayed in… Well, I'm just glad it didn't." He took a shuddery breath, and suddenly shot onto his feet. "Oh, right. I was supposed to ask the doctor how Drake's doing. Have you seen him? A short Chinese man? Wears little round glasses?"  
  
Frowning, Ryou stood up as well and took firm hold of JJ's shoulders, pushing him back down onto the chair. "JJ, sit down. Jesus, you're worked up. Just breathe a while, okay?" He sat down next to the younger detective.  
  
"Well, how am I supposed to be, then?" JJ asked sharply, raising his voice. He looked at Ryou with desperate, sleep-deprived eyes. "My partner just about died because of me. I'm supposed to watch my breathing when I all but blew a hole in his lung?"  
  
"Is that what you really think happened?" Ryou found himself raising his voice, as well. He needed to get through to JJ. This was going beyond mere worry for a partner; JJ wasn't easy to get this stirred up. "You were shooting to bring down a cold-blooded maniac of a serial killer. It was Drake who moved in the way of your shot. You never aimed at him."  
  
"No, no, because..." JJ leaned his forehead on his fisted hands and swallowed a few times before continuing in a strangled voice. "I had no choice, I had to, had to do it, it was a shoot or get shot situation. Except it wasn't me who was going to be shot, it was him. So I shot him…" JJ's eyes widened in bewilderment and he shook his head. "I shot him!"  
  
JJ didn't flinch when Ryou gripped his shoulder, trying to shake him to his senses. "Take it easy now, JJ. Take it easy. You did what you had to do."  
  
JJ pressed his hands to his eyes. He swallowed a sob, but the next one escaped him. "I shot him."  
  
"You've been working almost thirty hours straight. You need some rest; trust me, it'll all look different after a good nap." Ryou sighed, feeling for JJ. He wrapped his arm round JJ's shoulders, letting him know he was not alone. He waited for JJ to slowly catch his breath and calm down again.  
  
Ryou saw Dee approach them from the elevator. Dee raised his eyebrows when he noticed JJ, still slumped in his chair. Ryou patted JJ's back reassuringly, then stood up and came to Dee.  
  
"I talked with the doc," Dee said, glancing at JJ, who hadn't reacted to his arrival at all. "He'll be up in a minute."  
  
Ryou nodded. "What did he say?"  
  
Dee ran a hand through his hair and suppressed a yawn. "The same, that Drake will be just fine. What else could he say when half of the damn squad is here, mad with worry? He said Drake might wake up in a few hours, but he'll be really buzzed with the meds and all, so we should probably come back later." Dee's mouth twisted in a strange half-smile and he turned to JJ. "Oh, and he told me that since they don't have any beds to spare, we'd have to take our colleague home. What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Go home and get some sleep, you nut."  
  
JJ shook his head, still not looking at him. "I couldn't, senpai. I had to do at least something for Drake, so I came here. I really don't know why. I just couldn't be still."  
  
His quiet, resigned tone bothered Ryou. He had seen JJ hurt before, and in his experience, JJ was good at venting everything out and being done with it. Maybe it made all the difference that he had caused hurt to someone else. Maybe it made all the difference that the someone else had been Drake. Ryou bit his lip lightly, trying to find something to say that would snap JJ out of his helplessness.  
  
"When have you ever been able to be still?" Dee snorted, but his voice was light and almost gentle.  
  
Oddly, the rhetorical question seemed to stir something in JJ. He finally raised his head and looked up at Dee as if he only then realized that he was there. And at the first hopeful gleam in JJ's eyes, it suddenly dawned on Ryou what he must do to make good of things.  
  
Ryou pulled Dee a couple of steps away, just out of JJ's hearing range. Then he turned to meet Dee's questioning eyes. He forced resolve into his voice. It wasn't difficult; he believed in what he was doing. "Dee? You need to speak with JJ."  
  
Dee stared at him. "What?"  
  
"He listens to you. You'll get through to him without even trying. You know I'm right."  
  
Ryou watched the expression on Dee's face flicker from disbelieving to a bit uncomfortable. "But what can I say to him?"  
  
"Well, consider it the chance you've been wanting for a long time. Finally you can tell JJ whatever you want, and he'll listen. Right?" Ryou raised his other eyebrow questioningly. Then he lowered his voice and glanced quickly at JJ, who was staring into space. "Just snap him out of that guilt trip. It's not like him and I'm getting worried."  
  
Dee nodded and sighed, looking at his feet.  
  
"Okay?"  
  
"Yeah, okay. We'll go to the cafeteria; I need another coffee for this." Dee looked up with a wry look on his face. "You owe me."  
  
"I know. Put it on my tab." Ryou patted his shoulder. "Just go."  
  
Ryou watched Dee coax JJ to get up and follow him downstairs. To his relief, a familiar light shone in JJ's eyes as he straightened his clothes and nodded, walking after Dee. Ryou took a deep breath and let it out slowly, sinking down on one of the stairs. He let his head drop back, feeling like he could fall asleep there and then.  
  
He didn't know how much time had passed - maybe ten minutes - when he felt someone shake his shoulder, and his eyes snapped open.  
  
A balding, bespectacled oriental-looking man in a white doctor's coat was leaning over him, smiling patiently. "You are here about Detective Parker, I take it?"  
  
Ryou quickly got back on his feet, adjusting his clothes. "Yes. You met my partner, right? He told me everything."  
  
The man extended his hand. "I'm Dr. Cheung. I just checked on your colleague and he's awake. Normally, I would not let you in yet, but since you have been waiting all night, I could look the other way for a minute. I can't let you stay too long, though; he still needs rest."  
  
Ryou nodded, thankful, but too tired and busy with trying to digest this new information to find a way to convey it. "Oh... all right. Can I... just go in now?"  
  
"Yes," Dr. Cheung said and nodded, still smiling. "Are you his partner? He was asking for his partner when I spoke with him."  
  
Ryou looked at the stairway. "Uh, his partner is still here. He'll be up in a moment. Thank you," he then added awkwardly, suppressing a massive yawn as he went to the door.  
  
Ryou found Drake lying on the bed closest to the big window. Sunlight flickered through in small rays, making the sparse hospital room come alive and look warmer. There was an IV running from Drake's arm. He looked pale and, amusingly enough, exactly as sleep-deprived as Ryou was sure he must've looked himself. He turned his head when Ryou took a chair from the corner and sat down next to him.  
  
"Hey," he said in a raspy whisper, and smiled tiredly. "Where's the harps?"  
  
"You must be feeling pretty good if you can make jokes, Drake. Or is it just the medication talking?" Ryou smiled back. "Glad to see you're okay, pal. You really gave us a scare there."  
  
"Indeed, you were truly lucky, detective Parker," Dr. Cheung piped in. "I've never seen a bullet go through anyone that smoothly. It caused no internal bleeding to speak of, and missed all vital organs. It was either a very, very lucky break, or a brilliantly aimed shot."  
  
Ryou couldn't help the wide smile that spread on his face. Drake being exceptionally lucky; now that was a first.  
  
Drake frowned a bit and wetted his lips. "Can you... can you tell me what happened? I'm a little hazy on the details. Like who the hell shot me? I didn't see... anyone."  
  
Ryou saw the doctor nod at him and leave the room, and he smiled at the man. Then he turned back to Drake, sighing a bit. This was the second time he was telling the story that day and he didn't like it one bit. He leaned his elbows on his knees and gathered his thoughts for a second before looking up at Drake.  
  
"JJ shot at you by accident, Drake. We had him aiming at Lance from the rooftop."  
  
Drake stared at him with a look of total incomprehension. "JJ?" he rasped.  
  
"Yeah. He was aiming at Lance, like I said. You moved to stop Lance from shooting at Dee, but in doing so--"  
  
"--I screwed up his shot. Okay," Drake whispered, nodding. He laughed a little, dryly. "Jeez, man... I... JJ shot me? And I still live? Maybe my luck... is changing."  
  
"Speaking of JJ, though, he's really upset about all this. From what I can tell, he's blaming himself for shooting at you. He was going to pieces under my very nose. It honestly scared me. Do you know why he had such a strong reaction to all this?" Ryou asked, frowning a bit.  
  
Drake was silent for a while, pondering over something. "I might," he finally said.  
  
"Beside the obvious, I mean," Ryou said, trying to lighten up both himself and Drake. He smiled as Drake obviously searched for words. "Oh, it is obvious, you know. Dee's been watching you two for years. I never used to listen to him, but you've given me just too many clues lately."  
  
Drake cursed under his breath and looked away, but a smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, okay. But beside the obvious, yeah. I wanna talk with him. Where is he?"  
  
Ryou glanced at the door reflexively. "I'll go get him. Hold on." He went to the door, and ran into Dr. Cheung on the other side.  
  
"We should really let your colleague sleep now," the doctor said, "I'm surprised he even woke up this early."  
  
"Just a moment, please," Ryou said, raising his hands in a halting gesture, then ran down the stairs to the direction of the cafeteria.  
  
He found Dee sitting at a table, nursing a cup of black coffee. "C'mon," Ryou said, "Drake's awake. Are you two finished? Where's JJ?"  
  
Dee gulped down the rest of his coffee and left a dollar on the table. "Pretty much, I think. JJ is cleaning up - oh, there he is."  
  
They both turned to JJ, who walked into the view from behind the corner. He looked a whole lot more alive than before.  
  
"JJ, hurry up," Ryou called, "Drake is awake and asking for you."  
  
JJ's mouth fell open and he took a deep breath, then dashed past Dee and Ryou and to the stairs before Ryou could manage another word.  
  
Looking at Dee, Ryou laughed. "Well, he seems to be a bit closer to the normal." He wished Dee would hint at what he had said that had brought some life back into JJ, but Dee just shrugged and smiled a little.  
  
They followed JJ up the stairs. He hadn't gone into the room yet, but was talking quietly with Dr. Cheung. The doctor looked patiently concerned when they all gathered in front of the door, obviously intending to go in, but didn't protest. Dee nodded to him as he entered the room. Ryou followed at his heels, glancing at JJ questioningly. JJ gave him a shaky smile, but seemed to be glued to the spot.  
  
"Hey," Dee said and went over to stand by Drake's bed, "How're you feeling?"  
  
Drake shrugged awkwardly with only his other shoulder. His other arm was in a cast, and tied so that it would stay in place. Broken shoulder blade? Yeah, that must've been it - if the bullet had gone straight through, it must've broken bone on the way. No wonder Drake had been hurting so much. "Pretty okay," he rasped. "A bit sore. Like a frickin'... elephant's sitting on my chest."  
  
Dee chuckled and patted his unhurt arm. "You'll be okay, buddy. After all those cigs, your lungs should be used to the rough treatment."  
  
"Pot, hi, this is kettle," Drake said, and his following laughter turned into coughs.  
  
"You should not strain yourself too much right now," Dr. Cheung warned from the doorway. "The bullet did miss your lung, but it scraped it. You might have trouble breathing normally for up to two weeks, or maybe more, if you put too much strain on the healing tissue--"  
  
"Yeah, thanks, doctor," Drake rasped, waving his hand dismissively. "I get the picture. But I have something to say to JJ. Where... where the hell is he?"  
  
Ryou looked over his shoulder. JJ still hadn't come inside. "Let me go get him." He turned around with a sigh.  
  
"That was one hell of a shot," he heard Dee say to Drake with a little chuckle. "JJ brought Lance down even though there was someone in the way of his shot! He'll pull through, won't he? Lance, I mean?"  
  
"Yes," Dr. Cheung said and nodded, "he should recover completely, as well. He took a bit more internal damage, but--"  
  
"Good, I was afraid I wouldn't get to see that son of a bitch thrown in jail to rot," Dee said, interrupting poor Dr. Cheung again. Ryou looked at the doctor apologetically as he went past him.  
  
JJ stood rigidly next to the chairs, his back to the wall. He was biting his nails and staring into space with a look of deep worry on his face. Ryou leaned against the wall next to him. His eyes were watering a little in the bright lights of the hospital hallway. He wondered how JJ had been able to sleep there.  
  
"Drake's asking for you," he said.  
  
JJ frowned deeper and bit his lip instead of his fingernail. "I don't think I can face him right now," he said slowly. He sighed resolutely. "I should go home anyway, get some sleep and..."  
  
"And you left a cake in the oven, I know." Ryou turned to look at him. "Go see him. Drake knows what happened, and I bet he's worried about you." Ryou punched JJ's shoulder playfully. "Don't let this grow into something it's not."  
  
He watched as JJ digested what he had told him. Ryou knew this was hard for JJ, but his patience was growing thin. He wanted nothing more than to go home, snuggle under the covers and not get up before Monday.  
  
"JJ?" Ryou confirmed.  
  
"All right," JJ said and took a deep breath.  
  
Ryou went to peek into the room. Dee and Drake were chatting, but when Drake stopped to cough, Ryou locked eyes with Dee and gestured with his head.  
  
Dee caught the hint immediately and stood up straight, stretching his arms. "Well, since you're not dead, Drake, I think we can finally go home and catch some shut-eye."  
  
Dr. Cheung nodded sagely, like it had been his own idea. "I think it would be best if you let your friend sleep now."  
  
"Not just yet. There's someone here to see you, Drake." Ryou nudged the hesitating JJ into the room, and saw the hazy, exhausted look in Drake's eyes disappear.  
  
Ryou waved his hand. "We'll come see you again. Get some rest... at some point."  
  
"Will do," Drake said and grinned a bit.  
  
"Senpai? Thank you," JJ said, turning around to smile at Ryou.  
  
"No problem." Ryou smiled at the two, and left.  
  
The only one who didn't seem pleased was Dr. Cheung. "Are you sure you couldn't come by at a later time? It's essential that he lets the wound rest now and--"  
  
"Oh, c'mon, doc," Dee said lightly, putting his hand on the doctor's shoulder and steering him out of the room, "give 'em a minute, will ya? Go have a cup of coffee or something." He gave Ryou a wink over his shoulder as he walked the doctor all the way to the elevator.  
  
Downstairs, Ryou yawned so widely he thought he heard his jawbone snap. "I'm thinking twenty hours of sleep, minimum."  
  
Dee eyed him and laughed. He squinted when they walked out of the building and the mid-day sun momentarily blinded them. "Twenty-five. And if Bicky comes bouncing in, I'll get JJ to shoot him, too."  
  
Ryou hmphed and raised his eyebrow at Dee as he opened the car door.  
  
"What? You know he'd come out of it without a scratch." Dee shrugged in a maddeningly sincere gesture of aloofness.  
  
"Speaking of JJ, what did you two actually talk about?" Ryou asked when he started up the car. He couldn't hide his curiosity.  
  
Dee was quiet almost all the way home, seeming to fall into his thoughts, a blank look on his face.  
  
"Well?" Ryou finally asked when he could see their apartment building.  
  
Dee shrugged nonchalantly. "Unfinished business. Mostly Drake, really."  
  
"And that's all I'm going to get, huh?"  
  
"Pretty much, yeah." Dee's thoughtful expression melted into his usual animal grin. "You could talk me into adding some bonuses to the deal, I suppose."  
  
"Oh, well," Ryou said, smiling affectionately, "I think I could live with that." 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Title:** Common Ground, 9/9

**Rating:** R (M)

**Timeline:** After the Epilogue. Contains massive spoilers for the whole series.

**Disclaimer:** I'm not Matou Sanami, JJ's not an idiot and Drake exists, dammit.

**Summary:** A series of seemingly gang-related murders puzzle Drake and JJ... as if they didn't have enough trouble with their personal lives.

Author's Notes after the story.

_Feel the rhythm, sweetest sound / Making, breaking sacred ground_

-New Order: Times Change

The hospital room was just a little too bright for Drake's comfort. His eyes stung as if he hadn't used them for weeks. He found himself blinking and squinting in order to make out the figures of Dee and Ryou who were leaving the room. Drake turned to look at JJ, settling more comfortably against the pillow. Even that small movement made the world lurch and go blurry for a second. Closing his eyes for a second, Drake took a raspy breath and grasped for focus. It was not as if all this was new. He had been knocked on the head a dozen times and even if it now felt like a hyperactive kid was using his skull for a rattle, he knew it wouldn't last long.

"Drake?" Either JJ was talking very quietly, or then he had moved farther away. "Are you... are you all right? Should I go call the doctor back?"

"No," Drake said, opening his eyes. To his surprise, JJ was sitting on the bed right next to him. "The meds. I'm just a bit woozy, 's all."

"Oh," JJ mumbled. He sniffed a bit and rubbed his eyes. "Okay."

His clothes were wrinkled and his face was pale. In a word, he looked like shit. Drake hadn't expected to ever think that of JJ, who was, well, shit-resistant when it came to personal appearance. A deep-rooted alarm started ringing in Drake's mind, even through the haze of the medication: partner in trouble. "What's the matter, JJ? I didn't know you could be that quiet."

JJ awarded him with a small, sad smile. "You're lying in the hospital bed and you're worried about _me_. That's my partner."

Drake coughed a bit. He could feel it for minutes afterwards, numbed pain echoing through his lungs. "So you're saying nothing's wrong?"

"I'm perfectly fine," JJ claimed, patting the cover. "You, on the other hand, should go back to sleep. You shouldn't even be awake now, but you're... I guess you're being stubborn." JJ's light tone was forced. It bothered Drake.

"Bullshit. Ryou told me what happened."

JJ looked away and tensed visibly. "He did, huh?"

"Yeah. So don't bother with explanations. It's okay."

Drake could have hit himself on the head, just to hammer some social grace into his damn brain. Why hadn't he ever been able to say things the right way? He needed to make sure JJ wouldn't dwell on all this anymore. He needed to make sure.

"What happened was that I fucked up. Drake, I'm sor--"

"No," Drake protested, "_I_ fucked up. What kind of an idiot makes a sudden move when it's obvious there's a sniper taking a shot somewhere, huh? I should've known better."

JJ looked back at him, frowning in confusion. He shook his head slowly as he started, "But..."

"But nothing. It's okay." Even though he felt like a gibbon trying to speak Latin, it seemed he was getting through to JJ. Drake caught his eye as he continued, "And you did _good_, JJ. You got Lance down."

Some of the usual spark returned to JJ as he smiled. "So did you. You probably saved Dee-senpai's life with that stunt."

Drake laughed a little, even if it made him cough. "In... in a nutshell, we both fucked up, but we did it damn well."

JJ burst into chuckles. All the insincerity left his demeanor as he tucked his right foot under him and leaned closer to Drake, who only now realized that JJ wasn't wearing any shoes. JJ muffled his last chuckles into his hand as he rested his jaw on it. For a while, he looked at Drake, obviously choosing his words.

Drake was more than willing to give him all the time in the world. He concentrated on simply breathing for a while. His eyelids felt heavy.

JJ's voice was soft when he finally spoke. "You always know just what to say to me, Drake. How do you do that?"

Drake turned his head and stared at JJ, who was watching him with wondering eyes. Something warm flashed through him. _What_ had JJ just said?

"In any case, you're absolutely right. I don't know why I let it get to me that way in the first place. My conscience hasn't reminded me of all those lunches I owe you, so why would it start needling me now?" JJ shrugged and smiled a lop-sided little smile. "Odd, isn't it?"

"No, not really," Drake muttered, trying to cover up the fact that he could still feel JJ's earlier comment deep inside him where it had sunk. "Considering what happened to your friend. Don't even try to tell me you're not thinking about Max and what he told you. That's where all this guilt trip shit is coming from. Right? Not from the fact that you shot at your partner. Hell, you know how this job can be. You wouldn't freak out about that." Drake took a deep breath, resting his aching lungs. His head was swimming a little.

JJ frowned a little as he listened to Drake. "Maybe I would, when it's you," he said in all seriousness. "But okay. You got me."

Drake smiled tiredly. He had to fight to keep his eyes open.

Suddenly, JJ started to chuckle again. "You know," he said, reaching out to play with Drake's hair, his eyes glimmering, "with your hair short like that, you _do_ kind of look like Max."

"So my hair makes me a regular angst magnet, huh?" That earned him even more chuckles from JJ.

"Hey." JJ leaned closer, his expression dancing on the familiar edge between sunny optimism and no-nonsense seriousness. "You almost died on me. Never do that again."

Sleep was taking over Drake in giant waves. "I'll try to cut back."

He was sure he didn't just imagine the warm lips pressing onto his temple. "Good night, Drake. I'll come see you later."

The bright lights disappeared, the door clicked closed and everything turned soft and hazy. Drake sank into sleep.

- - -

The next few days went by in a lethargic mess. Whenever he could, Drake slept. His body's autopilot woke him a couple of times when he felt like he couldn't catch his breath, but it turned out he really had been lucky. At least he was told so several times. The doctors walked in and out, a mix of faces and names he couldn't quite remember, and each and every one of them reminded him to seriously consider cutting back on the cigarettes. He felt awkward discussing the interior of his lungs. But slowly, the headache and the racking coughs diminished.

Finally Drake felt good enough to answer the several text messages Ryou had sent him to keep him up to date. Of course, JJ stopped by daily to give the exact same information, along with expensive candy and magazines Drake never read, but it was good to have something concrete to go back to for reference. He gathered that because he still had his job, and so did Ryou, Dee and JJ, something must've gone right. Ryou explained that the fact that Lance was also in the hospital gave them extra time. More importantly, Lance's lawyers were not paying much attention to the police work concerning the case; they were far too busy trying to find an explanation for Lance's connections to the gangs. Drake had to search his brain for a moment before he recalled the last chat of the case he had had with JJ. Lance was a doctor, and gangs could always use morally dubious doctors. He asked JJ about it when he came to visit, and got a satisfied grin in return. Apparently, their guess had been pretty accurate. For the curious lab equipment in his basement alone, Lance would have to answer to some serious charges.

It had been over a week, and the weather had turned from early spring to unusually sunny late spring. Drake had piled up the magazines and papers JJ had brought him, intending to leave them for some other patient who might actually read them. He stretched his arms, and absent-mindedly tucked his shirt into his pants. Something caught his eye, and he went to pick up the card from his night table. It was a cheap Garfield card, from a six-year-old called Jackie who had almost ended up being the last victim of Lance's. Drake huffed a little, amused. Judging by the stiff thank you note, it was pretty obvious that the kid's parents had made him write the card. It didn't matter; the card still made him feel good about himself. Drake slipped it into the pocket of his coat. He put on his shoes for the first time in eight days, and walked around a bit, rehearsing.

The stocky nurse with the haircut of a 30's film starlet walked in and smiled. "Happy to leave us, Detective?"

Drake smiled back. He could not tell the doctors and their anti-smoking agendas from each other, but he did remember some of the nurses. "You could say that."

"Is someone coming to pick you up?"

"No," Drake said, picking up his coat with his right hand, uncomfortably aware of his limp, sweating left arm underneath the bandages. "I'll just call a cab and be on my way." He didn't mention to her that he was heading straight to work, nor that JJ had all but begged to come and pick him up. But considering that JJ already spent most of his free time sitting in the hospital trying to be useful in some way, Drake had sternly declined. He had one hole in his chest; he wasn't paralyzed.

The nurse tut-tutted and shook her head, then opened the door for him. "I'll walk you downstairs and make sure that you can find one, then."

"Thank you." Drake walked carefully down the stairs. The freedom of movement was disorienting.

When they reached the door, the bright sunlight blinded Drake for a second. After the quiet hospital room, the sound of constant traffic all but overwhelmed him. His head pounded a simple message through his brain: _nicotine, nicotine_.

"Now, when you get home, no aerobics, okay; I'm warning you. You take it easy." The nurse patted him on his good shoulder and went back inside.

Drake looked around, dug the cigarettes from his pocket and lit up, almost defiantly. Blissful relaxation flowed into his limbs. Feeling liberated and more than a little relieved, he finished the entire cigarette before even trying to catch a cab. In a way, he was padding up his nerves for the station and, inevitably, Chief.

The cab had hardly even stopped in front of the station when Ted came over to tap on the window. Drake threw him a tired grin and pushed the door open.

Ted laughed and was about to pat him on the back, but noticed Drake's cast and hesitated. "Hehey, when did you get out of the hospital?"

"About thirty minutes ago," Drake said, nodding towards the front door. "Is Baby Seal in?"

Ted looked at him with a half-scowl on his face. "You came here straight from the hospital? Man, I'm getting seriously worried about you. They tell me you got a hole in the lung, not the head."

"And you didn't come and visit me," Drake said in a mock-hurt voice, leading the way inside the station. Janet gave him a quick but earnest smile and waved her hand while she talked on the phone. Drake waved back. Good old Janet. Where would they be without her?

"Don't even start, Parker. We've had to deal with your spaz of a partner for a week; if anything, you owe us," Ted announced in a voice that was far too indignant to be taken seriously. He grabbed Drake's sleeve just when he had been about to open the door to his and JJ's office. "Hey, I think Chief called 'em all to an emergency meeting."

Drake frowned at him, not taking his hand off the grip. "Emergency? What kind of an emergency?" There was a sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach that had nothing to do with hospital food. The threat of being fired had always been there, looming in the background when someone had decided to skirt the rules, but it suddenly became a very real possibility.

Ted didn't seem all that concerned. Then again, Ted generally didn't believe in bad news. He shrugged. "Go ask him."

He could bet his ass that Drake would. He hurried down the hallway, but soon had to slow down - his lungs simply couldn't take the exertion. No hallway in his life had ever seemed so long, but when he reached Chief's office, he was all of a sudden not too eager to step in.

Linda Bromley, Chief's secretary, glanced at him, quirking her perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Is my partner inside?" Drake asked. He was out of breath, and felt weak because of it. That cigarette had probably been a bad idea.

"Yes, I believe he is. Detectives McLean and Latener are also in there, but I don't think--"

Drake didn't stick around to listen to her. With one long step, he was at the door. He knocked hurriedly and opened it. "Sir?"

The atmosphere was nothing short of morbid. Chief glanced up at him from under his furrowed brows, his expression grievous. It wasn't often that Drake sympathized with their chief, but now he really looked like the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders as he slumped in his old office chair, a barricade of files and dirty coffee cups on the desk in front of him. Ryou and Dee sat in the two chairs across from him, tense and frowning. Dee had a badly gnawed pencil hanging from the corner of his mouth. Ryou's eyes were wide and alert, as if he was ready to bolt at any moment.

Drake didn't even have time to notice JJ was in the room before he left his standing place in the corner and came to put his hand on Drake's shoulder. His somewhat hesitant smile eased the atmosphere. "Hey, partner. Why didn't you call me? I told you to call me the moment they let you out."

"With what? My cell phone's still-- " Drake caught himself in the nick of time and went on, a little awkwardly, "--still broken."

Chief let out an exasperated sigh. Drake swallowed. "Parker, why don't you close the door and sit down."

Ryou shot up and offered the chair to him, and Drake sank down gratefully. He could hear JJ coming to stand behind him and gripping the back of the chair.

"Sir?" Dee cleared his throat, taking the pen out of his mouth. "With all due respect, since we're all here now, can we please stop fucking around and hear what this is all about? We know what it says on the report we wrote. You didn't call us here just to remind us of that."

"Dee," Ryou muttered reprimandingly, nudging him, but Dee ignored it.

Chief scratched his head for unnervingly long before leaning his elbows on the desk and facing them. "Okay, boys, I'm going to be frank with you." He exhaled heavily and fixed them a stern glare. "I think you're all full of shit." He picked up a file that apparently contained the report, and let it drop down again. "What you wrote don't ring true. It's not the little details, either; seems to me this whole report was a carefully planned hoax."

"Sir--" Ryou started, wetting his lips nervously, but Chief cut him off.

"Now, I know you can be shrewd. And you sure as hell lie if it'll save you paperwork. But you're my boys, and this is the first time you've ganged up like this. I'm going to give you a fair warning: I _will_ get to the bottom of this, so no bullshitting. What's really going on?"

"Um, sorry, Chief, but I'm a little out of the loop," Drake started carefully. JJ took a sharp breath and held it. "What exactly is the issue here?"

Chief gave him a dark look. "I want to know what happened at the docks eight days ago. You say you were there to capture Lance, yet for some reason you hesitated to call the local precinct until he and his cronies had beat one of you up and pointed a gun at his head. You say this happened at the same time when Janet says she saw you running around the station." He sighed again. They had let him down, Drake knew as much just by looking at him. "I know if I ask her again tomorrow, she'll most likely swear she never saw you after all and that she must've been mistaken. I've asked around, and Jackson from the armory seems to be singing the same song. They're both lousy liars, but you know them and they'd never rat on you. But look here. I've got two people at the station, blatantly lying, and one of my detectives shot with a police rifle."

"An altered police rifle," JJ put in.

They all glanced at him. Drake turned in the chair to raise an eyebrow questioningly.

JJ shrugged, his expression one of bright-eyed honesty. "What it says in the report, sir. Many gangs steal police guns and fix them up with better scopes."

"We figure there was no way the punk could've hit Drake if the gun wasn't rigged," Dee said, nodding sagely. "What with the darkness and everything."

A smug look flashed on JJ's face at Dee's words. Ryou turned away and coughed into his hand, possibly hiding a smile at Dee's show of innocence. Drake felt he was sitting in the middle of a stage. A well-rehearsed play was in process here, and Chief was their only audience. He didn't seem convinced of their talents, and Drake got the feeling that whatever they did now, it wouldn't really matter. The critics had already given their verdict.

"So you've got it all covered, have you?" Chief stood up, looming over the desk, his voice rising to a thunder. "I told you not to bullshit me! I've got Precinct 83 on my _ass_, wanting to know why they weren't informed in time that my boys are tracking a serial killer in their fucking backyard! I've got a battalion of Lance relatives and lawyers nipping at my heels, and I don't even know what the hell my own squad is doing, so what do you suppose I can tell them?"

Ryou and JJ exchanged glances. They were all silent for a moment while the chief sat back down and growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

"Sir?" Ryou finally raised his voice. He sounded calm and collected. "Are we fucked?"

Chief looked up, and something close to amusement dawned on his face. "Well, let's see about that. Since you refuse to stop playing games, I'll start one of my own. Here's how it goes: I ask you a question and you _answer_ it, damn you. First, the 83rd. Why didn't you call them?"

Drake felt torn. He sure as hell didn't want to lose his job over something like this, but he didn't have all the details - maybe it wouldn't be too good if he was the one who spoke up. It surprised him, however, when Ryou wasn't the one who spoke first.

"Lance wanted to make a deal with us, sir. We couldn't risk telling anyone, because we wanted to keep my partner alive."

"JJ!" Dee burst out in annoyance while Chief nodded slowly.

JJ turned to give Dee a steady look. "Well, excuse me, senpai, but what would you have me do?"

"I wouldn't worry, Latener," Chief injected wryly. "He didn't actually say anything I hadn't already guessed. Good, so now we're finally on the same page. Next question: did you actually make a deal with Lance? If he brings that up in his trial--"

"He most certainly will not, sir," Ryou said, assuringly. "That is..." He backtracked a little, then went on, "I mean, no, sir, we didn't actually strike a deal with him. But considering his dubious ties to gangs, his lawyers would never bring up something like trying to make a deal with the police. That would lose him the last of the jury members."

"What exactly _are_ his ties to the gangs? It's obvious we're dealing with territorial qualms here, one way or the other. Lance's little brother was a Red Rob, that much was actually true in this report of yours. Care to explain to me why he runs around killing people, cutting them up like his brother, when he knows full well that will piss off the enemy gangs?"

Finally, a topic Drake was fully familiar with. "Exactly, sir," he said, effectively cutting off both Ryou and Dee. "He wasn't on either side. He was riling up the gangs to fight each other. He knew what would make them tick because of his brother's gang contacts. According to the reports, his brother's murderer was never found, and I doubt there was ever even any serious investigating involved. It was just another gang murder. So, our boy Lance goes a little funny in the head, and gets revenge on _everybody_, both the gangs who took his brother from him and - and..." He had to pause to cough. It was the longest speech he had given in days.

"And the cops who failed to find his brother's killer," Ryou finished for him. "All this, and he also wanted to kill the victims himself. It doesn't take a Psychology Major to tell that he was actually killing his brother, over and over again."

"Ah. The mystery of the vertical line." Chief leaned back and scratched his mustache thoughtfully. "When he killed them on common ground, neither side knew who to blame."

"See, we're not completely useless," Dee quipped.

Chief glanced at them all in turn, something resembling a smile lurking behind his mustache. "Maybe you're not," he said slowly. "Damn, boys. You always seem to find ways to surprise me."

JJ touched Drake's shoulder. He smiled brightly when Drake turned to look at him.

_We made it._

- - -

After exchanging some warm and reassuring pats on the back with Dee and Ryou, Drake was ushered to his and JJ's office to do his part of the paperwork that had piled up during his absence.

The moment the door closed behind them, JJ turned to him, sighing in relief. He warmed the room with a little smile. "See, if you had called me from the hospital, I could've warned you about that meeting."

Drake went past him to his desk, looking idly through the mix of old and new files piled on it. "It went pretty well, though, didn't it?"

JJ made a little sound of agreement, and then hesitated. Drake was aware of him fidgeting; JJ's silence tended to be really loud. It just wasn't possible to focus on anything else when JJ was like that, so Drake turned around. "What?"

"I was just thinking." JJ frowned and rubbed at the side of his nose. "Chief's right to be concerned. We took some real risks here. I think I've only now started to realize how badly I flipped out myself. I've been at the range every day ever since."

"Every day?" That was a bit much, even for JJ.

"Well, every chance I've gotten." JJ came to sit on Drake's desk, right next to Drake, like he always did when they were brainstorming. "You know how the saying goes, Drake: if you fall off a horse, you must get back in the saddle right away."

Drake had to quirk an eyebrow at that. "Yeah, but it's not like you made a mistake or anything. It was a great shot, a perfect shot, almost; I just happened to be there in the wrong spot. I don't think that metaphor works."

"Okay, forget the horse." JJ leaned against Drake's side. "Just make me feel better. I know I'm selfish. But you're so good at it."

Well, Drake was definitely going to try, at least. He gave JJ a bit of a hug, and ruffled his hair, and successfully resisted the urge to smack his ass when he jumped down from Drake's table and trotted back to his own. JJ just had a very smackable ass, and Drake was pleased to find that he didn't feel like a filthy pervert when he caught himself thinking about JJ like that. Somehow, being attracted to JJ had become one of the things in his life that he could do very little about, so he might as well not try, and that was fine. It was good to come back to work like nothing had happened. Familiar routines; there was something to them that had always appealed to Drake. He liked settling in and taking comfort in little everyday things.

At the end of the day, he was more than happy to let JJ drive him home. He leaned his head against the cool window and closed his eyes for a minute. The idea of taking a nap when he got home tempted him for a minute, but finally Drake decided that he wasn't really sleepy - merely tired, and a little sore even though he hadn't moved all that many muscles that day.

_Bedsores_, he thought, and had to smile.

- - -

The apartment seemed cold and dusty when Drake opened the door and stepped in. JJ had to give him a little push or he would've stood there in the doorway, staring stupidly at the abandoned-looking apartment that didn't seem to belong to him. JJ went past him and to the kitchen, peeling off his coat, and broke the unmoving, timeless trance the apartment had fallen into. Drake went to turn the heat up a few notches.

"God, this place looks abandoned," he commented, loud enough for JJ to hear.

"Well, it has been, for a while. I came here to water your plants, though." JJ peeked from the kitchen, smiling perkily.

Drake glanced at the corner of the living room and his one and only plant. It looked more alive than it ever had under Drake's shoddy care. He rubbed his hands together; it was a bit chilly in the apartment, especially with the curtains drawn. Even though it was a warm spring evening outside, only winter light came in through the dark blue curtains. He took off his coat, with some difficulty - he still hadn't gotten used to getting by with only one hand - and walked into the kitchen, scratching the back of his head.

JJ was going through his kitchen cupboards. He seemed to find what he was looking for and took out a can of mushroom soup. "I knew there had to be soup somewhere. You hungry?"

"Aren't you supposed to make chicken soup for sick people?" Drake huffed, amused, and took the can from JJ, putting it back into the cupboard.

JJ caught the cupboard door and held it open, tilting his head to the side. "I'll put garlic in it."

"Honestly, I'm not hungry. You can sit down; you've done enough."

JJ slipped past him again, letting the cupboard door close with a creak. He walked over to Drake's small kitchen table and spun around to look at Drake, seemingly somewhat let down.

"Look--" Drake started, thinking that he had been too harsh, but JJ talked right over him.

"I'm sorry; I'm being a bother." He leaned against the table, the faint blue light catching in his hair.

Drake went over to him. "No, look, you're not being a bother. You've been fantastic. I just don't want you to feel like - like you owe me something."

JJ glanced up, an expectant look on his expressive face. In the winter-colored apartment, he was the only thing alive. Drake found himself ogling. JJ looked - he looked like something Drake had no word for. He discarded words like "beautiful", "adorable" and "tempting", because none of them quite fit.

"It's not that," JJ said in a quiet voice and flashed a brief smile that tugged at Drake's heartstrings. "At all. I thought you'd know."

Surely there was no right answer to that. Drake stood there with his mouth open, helplessly searching for words. Well, of _course_ he knew, but it was never quite that easy, was it? He looked at JJ and he couldn't tell where the partner ended and something else began, if he only let it. The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed to handle this right, to find a way to make JJ happy.

While he pondered over it, JJ managed to slip past him again and headed out of the kitchen. Drake snapped to attention and followed him. "JJ?"

JJ went to pick up his scarf and coat. He turned to give Drake a little smile as he wrapped the scarf round his neck, but it wasn't altogether genuine. Drake knew when someone was smiling just for his sake, and it always made him feel like something of a bastard. "I should get back home anyway. Get some sleep, Drake. I'll see you tomorrow." JJ threw his coat on and turned to the door.

Drake grabbed his coat sleeve. "Wait." When JJ shrugged free of the loose grip, Drake took an almost fierce hold of his arm, forcing him to turn around. "_Wait_, dammit! Don't - don't go. Please."

JJ's eyes caught his. It felt like catching snowflakes with his eyeballs.

"Don't just leave like that. Please. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry about what?" JJ's expression was one of sad amusement.

Drake honestly didn't know what he was saying anymore. "You're upset. I'm sorry I made you upset. I'm a lunkhead; I don't - I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

"Drake." JJ stopped his desperate tirade with one softly spoken word. "You need to stop apologizing."

"Okay. Okay, but seriously, JJ. I don't want you to leave. Come on... come here." He reached out his hand hesitatively, curving it over JJ's shoulder, feeling his warmth through the coat. JJ followed the movement, leaning forward until his forehead touched Drake's chest. Drake slid his hand up to the back of JJ's head and held him in place. The short hairs at the nape of JJ's neck tickled his fingers.

"I thought I'd let you sleep on it," JJ said against Drake's shirt.

"I _have_ slept on it. You see how much good it's done for me. You should never let me think, JJ. I'm dangerous when I do that."

That made JJ chuckle a little, at least. "It's not easy to make up your mind about something you really have no power over, Drake." His words were quiet, but fiercely resolved. "I think we both know that. But I think... we could work it out. We could try."

Drake stroked JJ's hair. He didn't dare to say anything. When had doing the right thing become so difficult? He swallowed hard as JJ's arms gently wound around his waist, bringing them close. JJ fit wonderfully in his arms.

Maybe that was enough. He pulled JJ's head back, and leaned down, and was rewarded with the feel of the world's warmest lips against his. The warmest, and most eager. The floor under his feet turned into Jell-o, every inch of his body seemed to tingle at the same time and JJ was suddenly wearing too many clothes. They were as close as they could possibly be, but at that moment, it was nowhere near enough. He was aware of himself kissing JJ back, fiercely now, trying to force himself even closer and finding it impossible even as he held JJ's head and crushed their mouths together, over and over.

All of a sudden, someone seemed to grab his lung and twist it, and he had to pull back from the kiss and take a deep breath. He tried to keep the already disappearing pain from showing on his face, but of course JJ noticed it anyway.

"A bit much, maybe," JJ said, and his voice didn't sound quite normal, so Drake knew he hadn't been the only one to get so lost in that kiss. "You're still recuperating." He touched Drake's cheek, and his voice dropped a notch. "Not that I wouldn't want to do a world more."

Drake smiled, both to show that he was okay and because JJ seemed to make him smile for some reason. "Yeah, well, I'm afraid you're gonna have to take a rain check. I've a hunch that what you've got planned could kill me."

"Maybe," JJ said, in his light, flirtatious voice that Drake had never quite been able to figure out. He danced his fingers down Drake's shirt buttons, tracing their shape. "Too bad, though. I was really looking forward to being alone with you."

A thought hit Drake like a bolt from the blue. He was generally lousy when it came to reading other people, but JJ, well; JJ was sort of a specialty of his. In a second, it dawned on him that JJ really didn't know how to act in this situation. Whereas Drake was still gestating the whole gay thing, JJ actually had little experience of relationships that went beyond casual sex. It had been Dee-senpai, Dee-senpai, Dee-senpai for years; when the hell had he last even had a boyfriend?

"Hey." Drake lifted JJ's chin to catch his attention. "I told you, I don't want you to leave. You can have me all to yourself tonight; just keep the... keep the glomping to a minimum, all right? We'll make it a joint effort."

Drake could've patted himself on the back and given himself a medal for successfully assessing the situation when JJ frowned, obviously taken aback. "Uh... yeah, of course, sure." He laughed a little, obviously embarrassed. "In fact, I'd love to just spend some time with you. Sorry, I'm... I'm a little out of the loop when it comes to dating. At least, when it comes to what you straight people call dating."

"Not hundred percent straight, I think," Drake corrected. Funny how the words just rolled off his tongue.

JJ tilted his head playfully. "Oh yes. Damn. Now I won't be able to tease you about that anymore. And I--"

"Only have yourself to blame," Drake finished his sentence, grinning and mussing JJ's hair. "Come on, let's not stand in the hallway. I'll throw the crap down from the couch so we can sit down."

"I suppose throwing it in a garbage can isn't an option?" JJ eyed the pile, quirking his eyebrow.

Drake sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "What, you've hardly become my boyfriend and you already start nagging at me?"

JJ twirled completely around on his way to the couch. There was an endearingly hopeful look on his face. "I'm your boyfriend now?"

"Uh, yeah, if you want to, I mean." Drake found the floor to be very fascinating all of a sudden. "I dunno, I thought it was sort of a given at this point. Unless, of course, all you want is a piece of my ass--"

"No, Drake, no," JJ interrupted him, shaking his head determinedly.

"I was just kidding."

"I know, partly you were. But you can be so paranoid. I want to make things clear from the start." JJ gave him one of his happiest smiles. It could've warmed up the Antarctic. "So yes, I'd love to be your boyfriend, Drake, thanks for asking."

"Y'know, it's weird when you do that." Drake pointed his finger at JJ as he walked over to the couch and, as promised, threw the pile of random crap on it down on the floor. He kicked most of the stuff under the couch and sat down.

JJ followed him, almost trampling on a dirty tee-shirt but managing to step over it. "When I do what?"

"Read me like an open book. I mean, God, JJ, I'm used to you doing that when we're tracking down a psychotic killer, but..."

To Drake's surprise, JJ didn't jump to the chance to finish his sentence. He just sat on the couch next to Drake, looking thoughtful. When the silence started to get a bit uncomfortable, and Drake was about to ask if JJ'd like a cup of coffee or something, JJ shook his head a little and looked up into Drake's eyes.

"It's like we're in each other's pockets, isn't it?"

Drake couldn't help raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah, a bit. It's weird, though - I still feel it when you invade my personal space, if you step - step over a certain boundary, so it's not like you're in my pocket all the time, if you get what I mean."

JJ laughed and leaned close. Drake only had one working arm to wrap around his shoulders, but it was enough. JJ fit to his side like a puzzle piece. "I get you all right. Maybe we're not in each other's pockets, then; maybe it's more like we've found a place, just for us. A sort of a middle ground, where we can meet. You and your grumpy secrecy, and me and my - well, I'll let you fill in that one."

Drake felt warm and cozy from head to toe. "I don't know if I should."

That earned him a reassuring smile and a kiss. "Reminds me of what Chief said, actually."

Chief was the last thing on Drake's mind. "What did he say?"

"About how Lance made the gangs meet on common ground. That's where we are. That's where I'd like us to stay."

Drake's heart skipped a beat or two. JJ looked like he had never meant anything so sincerely. The way he could be so open, so giving - it was beyond Drake's understanding, and just as well; he was happy simply having JJ right there next to him, filling his apartment and world.

"C'mere," he murmured, drawing JJ even closer, and suddenly JJ's mouth was there, wet and warm and hungry.

JJ soon pulled back to speak softly against Drake's lips. "You say that a lot lately, have you noticed? 'Come here, come here.' Drake, I'm not _going_ anywhere."

Drake just breathed for a minute, inhaling the tranquility, the feeling of belonging.

"You better not be," he then said, in all seriousness.

JJ didn't laugh either, but Drake could feel him smile.

-

The End

- - -

**Author's Notes:** Well, here we are. It took me three years to finish this fic, and I'm both sad and relieved to finally let it go. I started writing Common Ground in Japan, when I had just got my hands on Like, Like, Love - I had no idea the epilogue even existed before I stumbled upon it, and was ecstatic to say the least when I saw that Matou had given my favourite duo an ending that simply screamed for fic. This is what I came up with.

Two things I want to make clear:

-Although I don't like fangirl Japanese, I make an exception when it comes to JJ's habit of calling everyone in the precinct 'senpai'. There's really no way to translate 'senpai', and I feel it's an important part of JJ's characterisation. Tokyopop's translation doesn't always make it clear enough that JJ is extremely polite and formal, even when he's yelling at Ryou in volume four. Thus, the use of 'senpai' even when he's no longer a newcomer and has become friends with many of the other detectives. Note that he drops the 'senpai' towards the end of the fic when speaking to Drake...

-I know Marty is not canonically Ted's partner. I just thought it fit, considering how well everyone seems to know Marty for some reason.

My soundtrack for this fic is pretty huge, but the songs I'll probably always associate with it are A Small Victory by Faith No More, Here to Stay by New Order and Inside My Love by Minnie Riperton. Dave Matthews Band, Marvin Gaye and Death Cab for Cutie's album Transatlanticism were fonts of inspiration as well.

Heart-felt thanks to my diligent and patient beta readers, Kylandra, Alyssa, Akakay and Aino. You guys have been wonderful, and I look forward to working with you again if I decide to go through this fic, now that it's finished, and truly spank myself with the grammar whip... (I know, I know, I've made you fear and loathe my constant re-writes; please be quick and not unnecessarily hurtful when you give me the death I deserve.)

Thank you for reading. See you at the 27th.


End file.
